Breaking Even
by Kamiko Kiyo
Summary: Post series finale. MaBill. A (mostly) matured young woman, Mabel returns to Gravity Falls years after helping thwart Bill's plans for Weirdmageddon. While still strange as always, the town is at peace. But upon rediscovering a long since forgotten site, what will she do when she's once again torn between her heart and her head? Her good nature and the undeniable logic?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for looking at my first GF story, but a fair warning before you proceed. I don't have a definite plan for this story and have hardly thought beyond a chapter or two, so read at your own risk, but thank you very much for the faith if you do continue. If you don't then have a nice day!

 **Edit:** Found the plot! :D

This fic was partially inspired by a short comic by watermelowne on Deviantart.

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A walk in the forest to calm the nerves. That's what the big idea had been behind her wandering the woods for the past hour. It was either that or Sweater Town, but Mabel preferred the smell of the woods to that of her own sweat on the hot day. While Mabel wouldn't say the walk had hurt per se, it wasn't really making her feel any better. It wasn't even her wedding.

Months ago she'd gotten the news that Wendy was engaged. She'd kept in touch with the older woman over the years and she as well as her brother still considered the redhead a close friend. It was hard not to after all they had been through so many years ago, going on adventures guided by their Uncle Ford's journal. Thankfully by now Dipper had moved on (years ago, actually) and was now in a two year plus relationship. And where was Mabel?

"Dumped. Again," she ruminated with a sigh. And right before she'd come to Gravity Falls for Wendy's big day.

She'd taken these break ups so much harder in her teens and early twenties. Every guy she met could be the one and she still firmly held this belief, but she had been so much more giving with her heart back then that it had hurt so much more when things didn't work out. Dipper had spent many a night comforting her and tried to kick the ass of whomever broke her heart with varying success (he'd gotten a little more muscle in their later years to be fair). Mabel could hardly believe he put up with her at times, but he never shrugged her off. No matter how many times she was sobbing over lost love, he never turned her away when it would be so easy to disregard her feelings over one out of countless broken relationships.

This was how Mabel decided she needed to change. Even if Dipper would always be there for her, she needed to try to make changes for herself. Despite how her brother would firmly deny it, Mabel couldn't deny that her luck with love could at least partly be her fault. Not that there was anything wrong with her (she was nice, fun and adorable!). But even she realized that she went into relationships way in over her head.

So she'd tried to take it slower. She had. She didn't try to make cute nicknames for her boyfriend until they were dating at least two weeks. She'd waited at least a day after the first date to make another instead of before the first one was concluded. Inviting the guy to her place was reserved only for those she'd made out with. Twice. On different days. And she'd stopped introducing herself as their future daughter-in-law whenever she met the family. She still brought the dating scrapbooks though.

But even that didn't prove fruitful. Consulting dating tips, getting advice from her friends and even talking to Dipper about what guys like (a very awkward conversation he'd recall if you asked him) didn't make anything change. So she'd decided that love would find her. And it did. Or she thought it did until he'd told her that, as people, they were "just _too different_." Mabel had actually liked that about them, but apparently that was one-sided.

In retrospect, she didn't love him. That was her only consolation. And as Dipper had put it "I think you just might be too in love with the _idea_ of love." He made a fair point. But at the age of twenty-six it felt like she should be in the prime of her love life. And having lost Waddles a year ago, she went home to an empty apartment and felt more lonely than ever.

At least she'd mellowed out over the years and wasn't quite as hyperactive as she used to be. In hindsight that was what really scared away a lot of guys. Looking back, it was the hormones. Or her Mabel juice. Probably both.

"Maybe I'll have luck at the wedding." She tried to keep herself optimistic as always. There were sure to be plenty of single guys there, maybe around her age if she was lucky. It was a wedding for Wendy after all, who would have friends around her own age, not a wedding for Old Man McGucket.

It was odd how easily she could see the crazed old scientist wearing a wedding dress. She'd probably seen it at one point in her lifetime with the down spiral of his sanity, but was only now unfortunately dredging up the old, suppressed memories of it.

A blur of white caught her attention. A rabbit scurried away like it'd just realized it had come across a den of wolves and the next moment a flock of birds fled from a nearby tree. All became quiet in the forest that was usually laden with the trickling sounds of nature.

Her face held a hard stare at the source of the disturbance. "Bill…"

It wasn't the first time she had come across the stone remains of the powerful, quick-witted dream demon. Their second summer visiting Gravity Falls, she'd discovered it while on a walk with Waddles. She'd been fearful at first, thinking the moment she spotted it the murderous triangle would come to life and come after her and her family for revenge. But then she'd came across it again and again during her walks. Even when she was sure that she had taken a route that would avoid the statue altogether, she came face to face with the empty shell.

It was no doubt an attribute to the weirdness of Gravity Falls, but, just as she always did, Mabel had found the good of an otherwise creepy situation. It reminded her that Bill was gone. Though his body seemed to hold some sort of strange repellent for all things natural, it was nothing more than an oddly-shaped piece of stone now.

Mabel had been angry at first when she found it. She'd turned on her heel to leave every time she met the isosceles monster's face. He had tried to destroy her family and the world. He had tricked her and many others countless times with evil intentions.

But then she had become curious. She would sit and stare at it for longer than she liked to admit, thinking over all that she had been through because of him. Even then, after long staring matches, she expected he might come alive and jump at her at any moment, as if he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security only to get a scare out of her. It would've been tame compared to when she'd first seen him pull teeth from a deer's mouth when he was summoned by Gideon. That's just the kind of demon Bill was. He wanted a show, whether he was the star or he made someone else perform. Either way, he was always calling the shots.

But nothing ever happened and she'd long since forgotten about her visits. She'd never told anyone either. Why worry about someone who was gone? Her family would surely want to destroy it just for good measure. While she could admit their paranoia was founded at times, something just couldn't let her desecrate what was equivalent to someone's grave. Even if that someone was literally a demon who had terrorized the people she loved.

Dipper called her too soft sometimes. Too forgiving. Too good. While she'd been obsessed with being a good person in the past, she'd eventually realized that being a good person wasn't about what other people thought about you, but what you saw in yourself. She didn't do things for other people, but for herself and her own integrity. Did that make her selfish at the same time? Her head was starting to hurt.

Mabel did what she feared to do as a child all those years ago and approached the only lingering evidence of Bill left in the town besides the inhabitant's memories. The brunette didn't feel anger or resentment or satisfaction. The hatred that was a burning inferno years ago was now nothing more than tepid cinders, the heat and feeling long gone.

She did not forgive him. No, she would never excuse the danger her family had been put in. But neither did she feel animosity towards him. Rather, she felt pity. He had lived so long and known so much, but he was so ignorant to such simple things. He didn't truly understand the things that made life worth living, his only thoughts ever being more than destruction, partying and manipulation. How he had become the way he was would likely be inconceivable to her, but that didn't stop her from having wanted to try if erasing him from existence hadn't been their only option.

"I wish we understood you more." Mabel bent over with her hands behind her back, observing how little vegetation had grown over the stone body for how long it had sat there, embedded in the ground. Thirteen years and it should have been overgrown with greenery, but the thin vines had barely climbed it.

Her hand hovered over his hat and trailed down, over the single arm that stuck out of the ground, always maintaining an inch of distance between them. It reminded her much of the Greek statues she had once seen in a museum long before she'd encountered the live wax statues in the Mystery Shack. She had marveled at what stories they could tell and what the models might have been like, posing for the artist at time. Only, she knew for a fact this "model" had been a triangular jerkwad.

Her hand then lingered over that of the statue's and she frowned, noting his four fingers. It was like he was from a cartoon (of course, it made a little more sense with him being from the second dimension). She placed her hand over his, getting Tarzan flashbacks as she made contact with the cold stone, and wiggled her left out pinkie that didn't have a match on his hand with a giggle. To think, she really used to be afraid of-

 _Crack!_

Mabel hissed in a gasp through her teeth when she felt the stone at her middle finger give way and shot back to watch it fall to the grass almost silently. She hadn't even been pressing that hard.

"Oh crap," she muttered, bending down to pick up the fragmented piece. It was a clean break. Maybe there had been a crack on it that she hadn't seen before.

It wasn't like this was some piece of modern art that she'd be held accountable for ruining, but she still didn't condone the idea of vandalizing graves. Not even Bill's!

"Uh… um…" She tried to fit to the finger back on, really wishing she had her glue gun on her. She brought it everywhere she was a kid (no telling when sequins or fake jewels would fall off).

She furrowed a brow and bit her lip, trying to think of a way to reattach it as she held it in her hand.

Then the world went blank before she blinked and an endless landscape of grey filled her vision.

Her breath hitched and she took a step back despite seeming to simply exist in the nothingness where there was no ground, sky, up, down or any direction at all.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't a shooting star. Better make a wish fast before it's gone."


	2. Chapter 2

"Bill!?" Mabel stared at the yellow demon in shock. Her legs might have given out if there was anything actually supporting her weight. Or if gravity hadn't seemed to have been suspended.

"Aw! You remember me! I'm touched, kid. Really. I mean, you're only one of four key people that foiled my entire plan for bringing Weirdmageddon global. I could completely understand how something like that could slip the tiny mind of a human though."

"H-How did you survive? We erased you inside my grunkle's mind." This was bad. This was _so_ bad.

"After getting over my seemingly eternal rage and hatred for your family, I can admit. That was a clever plan your uncles came up with." Bill threw his stick-like arms up casually with a shrug. "But that wasn't my first interdimensional mind rodeo and it certainly won't be my last!" he sang.

Bill floated down to Mabel, hands behind his back as he circled her. Unnerved by the idea of allowing him out of her sight, she tried and failed to turn with him, her body unaccustomed to the anti-gravity she was experiencing. It was like the invisible solidity under her feet shifted, feeling as stable as concrete one moment then like she was trying to swim through honey the next.

"I gotta say though. I didn't recognize you at first. Boy, have you grown up, Shooting Star." His eye shut as if he was smiling, oozing condescension.

"Thirteen years of being free from your ugly three-sided mug will do that!" she spat back defensively.

In the face of her old enemy all of her previous instincts rose to the surface. Emotions she'd just thought to herself moments ago were nonexistent and unnecessary now rushed through her on a base level of need to protect herself. They were in the mindscape and there was no telling what he could do to her, but at the very least it was all in her mind. He had no physical form otherwise he likely wouldn't be wasting his time with her.

"Thirteen years?" Bill rubbed his hand over where his chin might have been thoughtfully. "I've been out of the game longer than I thought."

"So you _are_ stuck here!" Mabel concluded with a smirk.

Bill turned to her, furrowing his brow in annoyance. "Oh, where are my manners leaving my first guest in ages hanging?"

"Wait, wha-?"

With a snap of Bill's fingers gravity seemed to return as a floor materialized and Mabel fell roughly on her behind, knees bent as her legs were sprawled out at her sides.

"Ow…" she groaned, rubbing her sore rear. She barely had time to recover before she was in the air again and heard another snap.

In the next instant a table and two chairs appeared in addition to a set of tea, cups and a tray of snacks. Mabel grimaced as she was placed in one of the chairs rather roughly. It might have been in her mind, but it still hurt all the same.

Bill laughed heartily at the misfortune he'd caused her before taking the other chair across from her and casually sipping tea from one of the cups through his eye. "Talk tough all you want, but remember that this is still _my_ realm. In _my_ body." He crossed his small legs as he leaned back, the tea cup floating in midair as he hovered over the chair rather than sitting in it.

"W-We're in your body?" Mabel stuttered, looking around curiously as she gripped the seat of her chair. Mabel couldn't help the need for some kind of anchor in the space that bent to the demon's will. As futile as it was, it still gave her some sense of security even though Bill could be throwing her around like a rag doll if he wanted.

"What did you expect after chipping off one of my fingers?" Bill asked before pausing mid-sip of his drink, appearing pensive. "There's a joke I could be making here, but I can't quite put my finger on it... Oh! Because you broke it off!" he shouted with a cackle. "There it is…" he said, affectionately shaking his head.

"That… was an accident," Mabel grumbled, distracting herself with the spread on the table, eyeing it cautiously.

"Eh." Bill shrugged. "Damaged goods. Only one more thing to add to my list of complaints about this body. I gotta say. I liked it a lot more when it was shiny, new and uh… what's the word? Mobile," he deadpanned.

"You should be grateful you even still exist after what you did." Mabel crossed her arms. There was obviously no exit for her, but maybe she could get him to throw her out. He couldn't leave or he'd have already done so and that alone was at least reassuring.

"Grateful? Ha! You're the one who should be grateful that I still exist, Shooting Star," Bill spoke coolly, setting his tea down and placing his hands behind his head again. He floated from his chair through the air on his back like he was on an invisible raft, circling the young woman.

"What? Why?" Mabel was baffled, watching him glide past her. Maybe the dream demon was getting delusional in his solitary confinement.

"If it weren't for me, your "grunkle" wouldn't know his alphabet from his soup." He crossed his stick legs before letting out a cry when Mabel snatched him from the air and held him in front of her.

"What do you mean by that?" She stared at him intensely, demanding an answer. "You're not making any sense."

"Let me guess. After you all thought you erased me from existence Stan remembered everything like that." Bill snapped his fingers for effect, but Mabel still had to prevent herself from flinching, knowing what a simple snap of the demon's fingers could do.

"Yeah…" Mabel gave the triangle an uncertain look. "How did you know that?" She tilted her head suspiciously.

"How about I spell it out for you, Shooting Star? Has anyone who's had their memory erased by that gun gotten their memories back on their own? Ever?"

Mabel was silent. Her mind was cast back in time to so long ago when they'd encountered the Society of the Blind Eye and tried to jog Old Man McGucket's memories, believing him to be The Author. Even after he'd watched a video of his old self, he still hadn't remembered. No one had. Not even those who hadn't used the memory gun excessively.

"Well, it was only used on my grunkle once." So of course he wouldn't be as bad off as the crazed scientist.

"To erase his entire life clean from his mind," Bill pointed out.

"I showed him my scrapbook full of important memories." And Waddles had annoyed his memory back.

"I'm not hearing a yes," he drawled. Bill appeared bored as he thrummed his fingers against one of her hands that held him as he propped himself up on an elbow.

Mabel frowned. "What did you do?"

Bill's cryptic demeanor was nothing new, but this was about her grunkle, whose memories and mind might not be as okay as she once thought. Sure, nothing had happened for the last thirteen years, but knowing Bill, he could've done something horrible. For all she knew the next eclipse could make her uncle wake up and think he was a talking, hot dog-loving skeleton with a glowing blue eye and telekinetic powers.

"Aw, don't sound so suspicious. Just because I bare a deep-seated grudge against you and your family for defeating me and sending more than a millennia of work and deals down the drain, you _automatically_ assume that I-?"

"Just tell me!" Mabel began to shake the triangle demon up and down like a magic eight she used to own. Emphasis on "used to" since she broke it. By accidentally sending it flying out a window.

"Hey! Watch the corners!" Bill growled. His eye turned an angry, menacing shade of red. "ENOUGH!"

Before she could stop him, Bill snapped his fingers. In an effort to get away from him, Mabel tried to skid her chair backwards, but a weight pressing down on her instead made Mabel and her chair topple back onto the floor. Mabel yelped as she fell on her back roughly and her head smacked against the hard ground in the process, leaving her groaning and rubbing the slowly forming lump.

"Two can play at this game, Shooting Star." The familiar voice sounded slightly different. It was less warped and loud, like it was being broadcast from speakers all around her. For once, the voice had a singular source.

She blinked blearily, black spots forming and fading from her vision due to the fall. As the grey world came back into focus, the brunette found herself inches from a bright, golden eye that seemed to shine dangerously.

"Now are you going to play nice or should I start showing you why they call me Bill the Heartbreaker?"

As he leaned back a bit from where he sat, straddling her sternum, Mabel took in the new view fully. He had a short mop of stylishly messy blond hair which covered one of his eyes completely, leaving only the one to stare at her expectantly. His black bow tie and top hat remained, the latter floating casually above his head. Trailing down, he wore a white billowy dress shirt whose sleeves were rolled up at his elbows underneath a yellow patterned vest with black buttons. His black leather gloves matched his black dress pants and shoes, the former of which was held up by a pair of suspenders.

His attire was sharp, just as it was when in his triangle form, but this, Mabel could actually take seriously. Likely the most inhuman and unusual characteristics were the slightly pointed ears sticking out of his golden locks and the partial sleeve tattoos on his forearms, wrapping around in rings of varying lengths with ancient looking symbols and markings on each band.

"They call you Bill the Heartbreaker?" she struggled out, breathless at his new appearance. And because she was pretty sure he was sitting on top of her lungs. She could see why he'd been called that as his face was smooth, refined and would be easily considered attractive, but then the moniker didn't really fit Bill's personality.

"Actually… not anymore since I tore out the heart of the last person who could recall that I was called that and broke it into a million flash-frozen bits. Heh. Heartbreaker." He shrugged, looking down at her. "And I know what you're thinking. It's all in your mind. I can't hurt you." He raised his gloved index finger in front of her. "But in light of that, just me doing that heartbreaking thing right now in front of you would probably be enough to send you into shock and I've got nothing to lose!" He grinned.

"So is it a deal or what?" He received a hurried nod from Mabel and seemed to realize only then that he was cutting off her air supply. He still took his sweet time in getting up though.

Mabel gasped for air as he scoffed at her. No one needed to breath in the mindscape. Her mind just made her think she needed to.

Once she felt she got her breath back, Mabel sat up on the ground and stared at Bill wide-eyed. "You… You have a human form?" she questioned him, astonished.

"Oh, this?" He looked down at himself curiously as if seeing it for the first time himself, leaning his arm on a cane Mabel hadn't seen him materialize. "I've had this form for ages. Been a while since I dusted it off though." He used his cane to hit his chest and a puff of dust flew off of his body like an old mattress causing Mabel to cough and wave away the dust.

He then smirked. "Why? Like what you see, Shooting Star?" He threw his arms out as if to put himself on display.

Mabel resisted the urge to roll her eyes, giving him a stoic frown before standing and dusting her pants off. She was not amused.

"What? If I recall correctly, and I always do, this form isn't far off from those dreamy boy-toys you used to fawn over. Of course, I look way cooler. And better dressed," he added importantly with a grin.

"Is there a point to this? Why did you even bring me here?" For nothing good, she was sure, but ignorance was more dangerous than knowing when it came to the demon.

"Is it so wrong of me to cater to the first visitor I've had in more than a decade…? Apparently?" he added as an afterthought. His sense of time was even worse there than it normally was. "You humans are always criticizing my naturally linear shape, but then I conform to look more like you and you're still not happy?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if disappointed. "There's just no pleasing you fleshbags. I don't even know why I try." He wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, sniffling as violin music played in the background. On the world's smallest violin, Mabel was sure.

"If you want to make me happy, then let me out of here so I'll never have to see your face again." Everyone would start worrying about her eventually and the last thing she wanted was for them to get drawn in there with her.

"Really, Shooting Star?" Bill asked skeptically, his countenance uncharacteristically stolid. "That would make you happy?"

"Like a tornado in a trailer park," she articulated tersely.

Bill grinned. Obstinate as she was, the girl had his sense of humor.

"Oh? Then what was that whole "I wish we understood you more" spiel from earlier?" His sly grin broadened as her face fell at the realization that he'd heard her. "Just lip service for the passing squirrels?" He placed the cane on the ground behind him and leaned back expectantly.

Mabel scowled at him bashfully, fixing him with a glare. She'd been completely honest when she'd said that, but the longer she hung around the real Bill the more she was starting to remember why she wouldn't want to have anything to do with him. He was cunning, unapologetic and talking to him was like talking to a trampoline. He just bounced everything back at her with few to no straight answers. She'd had conversations with more progress with Waddles! Who was way better company anyway.

"Even if I _did_ mean that, it's not like you would care."

"Oh? What makes you think that, Shooting Star?" he asked coyly.

"When was the last time you cared about anyone other than yourself?" she shot back.

"… I believe we're getting ahead of ourselves. My point remains. You want something from me. And I want something from you." He pointed his cane at her with a smile. "Surely, we could make some-"

"I'm not making a deal with you, Bill," Mabel interrupted flatly as the demon visibly deflated.

"Since when did Pine Tree keel over and start possessing _you_? The years sure have made you a killjoy." He leaned against nothing as if an invisible wall was behind him, twirling his cane with a disgruntled frown.

With a sigh, Mabel turned her back on the demon and put the fallen chair back up before taking a seat. This was clearly getting her nowhere fast.

Picking up a cookie from the tray, she sniffed it and contemplated if it was safe to eat. The last time she'd been in this situation, trapped in her bubble prison, consuming the food had had no ill effects, but she was still wary of anything and everything in the mindscape.

"It's not poisoned, ya know." The brunette shivered in surprise from hearing Bill's voice directly beside her ear, a hint of amusement in his tone. It was force of habit as she'd spent the vast majority of her life in reality, so she was still caught off guard when the laws of reality didn't make apply, like someone making sound when they moved.

When she didn't even turn to look at him, he grabbed the wrist holding the cookie causing her to tense. His grip was firm but gentle as he took a bite of the sweet in her hand as if to prove his point and promptly let go. He walked over to take a seat in the other chair, chewing casually and Mabel couldn't help staring at the mundane act of the demon eating.

She'd once asked Dipper what it was like when Bill had been possessing his body and he'd reluctantly divulged that the triangle was quite clumsy with it, stumbling as he walked and pouring soda over his face when he drank. She wondered if his skill with a human body had changed or if it was just different because they were in the mindscape.

"Even if it was poisoned, it wouldn't do much. This place is just my mind after all," he said with his mouth slightly full before swallowing.

"This is your mind? I thought we were in the mindscape. Or your body. Or… another dimension." Mabel tossed the half eaten cookie on the tray, wiping the crumbs from her hands.

"Well, a pocket of it, anyway," he told her when Mabel looked around curiously. Probably not what she expected the mind of a demon to look like, but then, she was only looking at the smallest piece of the picture. "Mind, body, dimension, it's all about the same thing at this point. It wouldn't be worth it to explain." He crossed his arms and kicked one of his legs up on the edge of the table to balance back on the hind legs of his chair.

Silence reigned between them. A little surprising since she was sure he'd try to squeeze some deal out of her, but Mabel wasn't complaining.

After a while, however, she began to grow agitated with the silence and finally spoke up. "I still don't understand how you survived. Or why I should be glad that you did."

"I think that should be a story for another time and place. Don't you think?" She swore his visible eye seemed to gleam at that, as if he knew something she didn't.

"I'm still not making a deal with you," she stated firmly.

Bill glanced at her like he didn't know what she was talking about. "No one said you had to. That's why it's called a deal, not a demand. Though, I must say, the latter is much more fun make in my opinion."

"Then I'm done here." She rose dismissively.

"Desecrating, dining and dashing, Shooting Star?" Bill stretched his palm to face her, his thumb curled in as he wiggled his ring finger, the one that had broken off of his body in the real world. "While I completely approve, I didn't think that was your style."

Mabel pursed her lips, abashed. "I didn't mean to and I was going to fix it," she grumbled. "And as fun as catching up with the nightmare from my childhood has been, I need to get home."

"'Nightmare from your childhood'? Kid, you're gonna make me blush," Bill teased in a façade of embarrassment.

"Bill. The exit?" Mabel pressed at the demon's (likely intentional) short attention.

"I'm afraid you can't leave, Shooting Star." Bill spoke as all humor drained from his expression.

Mabel's heart dropped to her stomach and she took a step back on shaky feet, the picture of a doe in headlights.

"Ha! Just kidding! The exit's over there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where a door appeared in the grey void. "The look on your face though! Never gets old." He cackled to himself as he let the chair fall forth onto all four legs and smacked the table as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"And you're just… letting me leave?" Mabel was still suspicious. Even if he didn't have a reason to keep her there, he was being unusually helpful even if it was simply by showing her the way out. She'd sooner expect him to hold her there against her will until she made a deal with him that would set him free.

Bill's snickering ceased abruptly as he looked up at her and rested his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the table. "Why? Did you miss me? I bet you missed me. Wanna spend some quality time with your favorite demon?"

Mabel gave him a tired, knowing look as she crossed her arms. When Bill didn't yield in their staring contest, she caved.

"You can cut the act. We both know that nothing is free when it comes to you."

"Be that as it may, life and everything in it isn't free either, so feel free to give that bitch the cold shoulder too." Bill stood with his cane draped over his arm and tipped his floating hat off to her, giving Mabel an even smile. "Also, consider the finger a gift to commemorate our little reunion, Shooting Star. Smaerd ruoy ni retal uoy ees."

Bill snapped his fingers.

Mabel's eyes shot open, staring up at the sky of soft pinks, yellows, oranges and purples that melded together like a river of colors.

Clenching her hands, she felt the smooth stone in her hand and sat up, looking at it pensively. Her gaze wandered to Bill's statue that was just as still and frozen as it had always been, but she knew he was still watching her from within.

With a hard look, she gave him a finger of her own and stood, walking off back to the Mystery Shack, hoping it wouldn't get dark before she returned. Despite her less than affectionate parting with the remains of the demon, she slipped the stone piece into her pocket. If nothing else, it would help remind her of just what she was dealing with.

After all, what kind of demented gift was a severed finger?

* * *

(1) This and Bill's human form were heavily inspired by an artist whose work I love dearly. Link will be in my profile.

Author's Note: So miraculously, I've found the plot! Believe it or not. XD I'm not very good at figuring out how long stuff will take me to write or how long something will be but, but rest assured that this will not be as short as it seemed like it would be before! It was great to finally get to the meat of this, meaning the stuff I really wanted to write. Mabel and Bill are so much fun and I can't help loving how well they play off of one another.

Also, thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows, guys! They always make me eager to post the next chapter. *hint, hint* ^_~ Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Looking around, Dipper could almost pretend that he was a kid again. Though it was near the end of the day and the Mystery Shack was set to close in an hour a fair but thinning crowd of gullible tourists still remained. They milled about the gift shop for some overpriced souvenir that they didn't need to remember a trip to a place that was about as authentic as the meat at fast food restaurants. Dipper had long since decided he would never understand it, but the scene brought back memories that elicited a smile on his face.

Soos had kept the tourist trap just the same as it had been all those ago, but his meticulous upkeep of the place showed just how much pride he held in managing it. While it was impressive on its own, anything would have been a step up from how Stan let layers of dust pile up until it would practically create an indoor simulation of the dustbowl from the 1930s. He'd claimed that it added to the antique look of some of the exhibits.

Though Dipper sympathized with Ford's opinion that the Shack was a giant insult to the real supernatural all around them in Gravity Falls, he was still very glad that his grunkle had allowed it to stay. It didn't only hold precious (and sometimes nostalgically scarring) memories, but Soos had been so passionate about keeping it open and running it himself that Ford would have had to be heartless to shut it down. Plus, though Ford begrudged the fact, the Mystery Shack did pull in a lot of revenue that had no little part in funding his and Stan's voyage around the world.

It was crazy to think that the brothers had sailed the world for ten years and only recently began to get their land legs back. It had started with the trip to the Arctic Ocean, but they'd had such a blast that it had continued to extend indefinitely until they'd been on the sea for a decade. Dipper guessed that, on some level, they were making up for lost time.

While the anomalies and discoveries they'd made didn't fill an entire journal let alone three like the anomalies in Gravity Falls did, they had still made some amazing discoveries, both natural and supernatural, the former of which had landed them some real world scientific recognition. It was probably the adventure and travel that had kept them so young and energetic despite them now being in their eighties. Dipper only wished he could be the same when he reached their age.

However, as much as he would have loved to join them on one of their expeditions, Dipper had been aware that he needed to get some things in order and some experience under his belt before diving in. Even though he'd been tempted, Dipper hadn't graduated high school early, instead taking advanced classes and some college courses here and there. Mabel's insecurities about high school hadn't just disappeared overnight, so he'd wanted to be there for her as long as he could. However, his reasons weren't purely altruistic. He was just as anxious as she was about the day that they'd have to part and he'd wanted to cherish their time as much as possible rather than ending it prematurely. Dipper might have been the "smart one," but Mabel was the bold one. She pulled Dipper from his shell of fear and doubt and he steadied her.

People always acted so knowledge about twins. They said that twins were opposites to explain when they fought. They said twins were like yin and yang, balancing each other out when they got along. They said twins were a set because they were born together and were each other's lifelong friend. They said twins were their own individuals and that being born together was hardly different from being born separately in the end. But Dipper knew that no one really understood the simultaneously intricate and simple relationship between twins unless they were one themselves. And it was because of that inexplicable relationship that Dipper didn't for a day regret his decision to make sure that he and Mabel had graduated together.

From then on, it was hardly like they were really apart anyway. They texted, video chatted and called one another constantly to fill the void of the other's presence as if it was only natural. Dipper himself had only realized how much they talked when one of his college friends had asked if Mabel was his girlfriend and his actual girlfriend at the time accused him cheating on him. For the first time, he'd realized no one knew him as a twin. It was such basic concept that overlaid his entire life, like his own name, that it honestly didn't bother him when he'd be made fun of by his friends for constantly contacting Mabel. They might as well have been teasing him for having two eyes, hands and feet.

No matter what anyone said, the constant communication had been good for the twins and before they knew it they were both college graduates. Though they'd opted to stay in their respective college towns, they'd still visited both Piedmont and Gravity Falls to visit with family. And then a few months ago, news of Wendy's engagement brought about a reunion unlike any they'd had in years. Dipper was just thankful that it wouldn't take place right away. Having only just arrived the day before, he was tired and hadn't even unpacked yet.

The sound of the bell alerted Dipper to the entry of someone into the Mystery Shack, pulling him from his inner reverie.

"Hey." His casual greeting didn't receive an answer as the person walked past the cash register. "Hello?" he tried again, but only got silence. When the person was about the exit the room, he called out idly, "The unicorns are back."

"What? I told those glittery jerks to stay off my turf!" Mabel spun around with a growl until she saw the smug look on Dipper's face.

"Have a nice trip to Venus, space cadet?" He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, amusement playing on his face as he chuckled.

"You wouldn't be laughing if you ever got a horn to the back," Mabel grumbled. Despite their team up to end Weirdmageddon, the unicorns had still proved to be the same obnoxious creatures they always were when Mabel had tried to make peace afterwards.

"So where have you been, sis?" He ignored her comment. "You were gone for so long I was starting to worry you got kidnapped by gnomes again." His laughter abruptly trailed. "You… You weren't, right?" he asked in concern.

"No." Mabel rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. "One time." She strode over to lean against the wall beside him. "I just lost track of time. Thinking and stuff."

There was no need to tell him about Bill. The demon was trapped in his stone body and likely couldn't do a thing unless he made a deal with her, something she wasn't planning on doing any time soon if at all. Knowing would only worry Dipper unnecessarily.

"I get that. It's been weird being back here. All the old memories keep popping up, ya know?" He playfully nudged her shoulder with his. "It's just so nostalgic."

"Yeah." Mabel let out a dramatic sigh. "The good old days when you accidentally summoned a horde of zombies and I was taller than you." It hadn't taken long after their thirteenth birthday for Dipper to finally hit a growth spurt and take back that millimeter of height difference between them and then some. Now he stood nearly a head taller than her.

"Right…" Dipper rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. The zombies incident was not his most shining moment.

"You know, if you're feeling _really_ nostalgic, we could-"

"We're _not_ summoning a zombie horde." Dipper cut in with a tired tone of annoyance as if it was the hundredth time she'd suggested it.

"Pfft." Mabel covered her mouth a snort. "I was gonna say we could probably find that flashlight to make me taller than you again." Mabel giggled as Dipper blushed.

"Oh… well, we're not doing that either." The day they found out he was taller than her was a day he secretly cherished.

"Although now that you mention it-"

"Mabel!"

"It's not like we don't know how to stop them." Mabel held her stomach, laughing. "I could dig out the old karaoke box. Just like old times!"

"You're not serious." He ran a hand down his face, trying not to cringe at the memory.

"Nope. But it's funny when you think I am, little brother." She poked his cheek affectionately and then yelped, yanking her hand back when he pretended to snap his teeth at her digit.

"Use it and lose it, Mabel," Dipper warned her playfully as he clicked his teeth together again.

She gave him an indignant look. "I see _someone's_ been hanging out with the manotaurs again." Mabel cradled her index finger protectively, muttering under her breath. "Ya filthy barbarian."

"Nah. I'm this filthy all on my own." Dipper smiled with a shrug.

"Something I'm sure your girlfriend loves." Mabel mirrored his look, rolling her eyes. "Still showering only once a month?"

"You wish." Dipper laughed.

"So hey, where _is_ the other half of ChipDip?" She elected to change the subject, smirking with crossed arms. Mabel's teasing was rewarded with a resounding groan from her brother.

"Ugh, I can't believe Soos came up with a ship name for us." As much as the man had grown in some ways after marrying Melody, getting his own place and successfully running the scam business of the Mystery Shack some things never changed.

"You can't deny it kind of works." Mabel chuckled shortly and cocked her head at him with a pointed look of amusement.

"Just because her last name is Zingles like the chip? It's kind of a stretch if you ask me." Dipper yawned tiredly.

"Anyway, where is she?" Mabel reiterated.

"Libby went into town. After the massive car ride here she's been restless," Dipper explained, glancing at the entrance as if she might return at any second. "She didn't even do any driving. Me, on the other hand? I'm still kind of exhausted." He swept the hair from his face. He wasn't wearing his signature pine tree hat, having grown less self-conscious about his birthmark over the years. He still wore it often, just not as much, though he still kept his bangs long enough to easily conceal the dipper.

"Poor poor Dippy." Mabel reached up to ruffle his hair. Dipper quickly gave a light smack with his forearm to shoo her hand away. "And what about grunkle Stan and Ford?" Stan had to be doing something if he wasn't trying to rush the customers to "buy something or get out."

"Giving the last tour and do you even have to ask?" They didn't know if it was meant to compensate for the excess travel, but Ford was often in the basement. Despite all the trouble that his research on Gravity Falls had caused, Ford was far from discouraged in his pursuit of knowledge. If anything, it had only made him more inclined to understand the weirdness in order to be better prepared to combat it. Though they didn't know where exactly, somewhere the dimension traveler had salvaged, consolidated and recreated all the information from the three journals lost when they had fought Bill and more. It had helped that Stan had copied all the pages from the journals previously.

Mabel blinked. "Has he come out since I left?" Though Ford had greeted the twins when they'd arrived, that was the only time they'd seen him. Before that Stan had complained that even he had hardly seen Ford in the last week or two.

Dipper answered with a simple shake of his head. Being a bookworm himself, it wasn't as concerning to him that Ford lost hours or even days down there. The twin would even be tempted to join him if not for his recent fatigue and a girlfriend that would chew him up and spit him out if he dared to drown himself in research during, what she felt was, their vacation. He did a lot of the same at work back home and he didn't know if he could handle the excitement of what Ford would show him without getting sucked in. Not that he wouldn't try to become wrapped up in Ford's discoveries, results and notes at some point during their stay.

Mabel was having none of it though. "Then I'm on a rescue mission," she declared before pushing herself off of the wall and heading out of the gift shop.

"From what, do I dare ask?" Dipper might have tried to stop her if she wasn't Mabel. It was this same sort of spirit, attitude and a certain amount of guilt tripping that gotten her to convince their parents to let her keep Waddles after that first summer.

"The same endless wasteland that you hail from called Nerdville." Mabel glanced back at him with her hands on her hips and a look of determination.

Dipper's response was a weary expression and a sigh. "Mabel. You're being self-righteous again," he pointed out.

"And what's wrong with that?" she challenged.

"The last time you did this you shoved me and Wendy into a closet and we ended up getting locked in with a deranged, homicidal shapeshifter," he said flatly.

"That's a mute point."

"You mean a moot poin-"

"NEEERD!" Mabel spun around and kept walking.

"Just please don't break anything," Dippy called after her helplessly.

"No promises!"

* * *

Author's Note: Woo! Two chapters in less than a week! I didn't know I had it in me. Anyway, thank you all so much for all your support and lovely comments. I wanted to get some background established here, so I apologize for the exposition in the beginning, but I hope some cliche twin banter made up for it!

I'm so happy that some of you guys think I write Bill well. I wanted to get him right, because, let's be honest, he kind of steals the show. XD Bill is fun to write and we'll be seeing a lot more of him soon so be prepared!

And props to those who notice the random little references. ;)

P.S. While I was writing this, I finally realized why it's called ChipDip...


	4. Chapter 4

Mabel had finally gotten Ford out of the basement, telling him that "unusual energy readings" could wait until after a proper meal. It looked like she had come just in time too. His eyes were bloodshot with dark bags, his clothes (which were the same ones as yesterday, but Mabel was almost certain he'd been wearing them longer than that) were wrinkled and his grey hair was greasy from lack of hygiene. It had taken guilt tripping, persistence and a fake tear or two, but he'd finally agreed to leave his study.

Ordering him to go and take a shower, as she'd nearly lost her appetite at the smell when she'd gone downstairs to get him (Ford had to have lost his sense of smell to withstand it), Mabel had then started to rustle through the fridge to salvage something for a home cooked meal. Of course her options were sparse with Chinese food cartons, outdated jars of things she couldn't even recognize and others with hardly a spoonful of anything in them. However, she'd managed and, once Libby had returned, gotten the Pines clan together for dinner.

Afterwards Dipper and Libby had gone upstairs to crash, Stan had gone to digest in front of the TV and, to Mabel's pleasant surprise, Ford had offered to help her with the dishes.

"I must say, Mabel, that was the best leftover Chinese-Italian casserole I've ever had," he commented as he dried the dishes. "And it tasted pretty good too," he teased.

The grunkles had been skeptical of the dish at first, but after some reassurance from Dipper they had reluctantly tried it. Ford was almost sure it had to have been by some sort of fairy magic (their dust could really spice up anything, he'd discovered), but the unusual dish hadn't been bad at all.

Mabel laughed and said smugly. "I know. When you're a college student, you learn to be creative with meals." As she'd grown up her taste had still been a bit strange at times, but she'd managed to find a way to make it work. The combinations and flavors she used were odd, but surprisingly pleasant rather than putrid. She'd also learned to cut out the glitter and plastic dinosaurs. It really smoothed out the texture.

"Heh. I remember. College was good for me, but I have to admit it lacked a good meal or two every now and then." And a certain brother, but Ford would be lying if he said he wasn't content with how things had turned out. "Would have been nice to have you around when I was going to school."

"Same to you. Or even Dipper. I could have used a nerd around to help me when physics was kicking my ass in my final semester." She'd put off taking it all four years and, just as she'd predicted, the stress, confusion and frustration had probably taken years off of her life.

Ford chuckled affectionately. "Well, you still made it through, even without a "nerd" to fall back on and I'm proud of you for it, sweetie. I'm proud of the both of you." Dipper might not have taken up his offer of apprenticeship, but Ford could see that he wasn't the least bit wrong about the young man's potential.

"Even though I didn't get 12 PhDs?" Mabel paused in washing the dish in her hand, feigning an ashamed pout.

"Trust me when I say they're not as great as they sound," Ford laughed. "Everyone assumes I have a medical degree and then the hypochondriacs start swarming."

Mabel snorted. "And I'm sure you don't ever misuse that power," she smirked at him, recalling when Deputy Durland had once asked Ford about an unusual growth on his foot. With a completely straight face, Ford had told the officer his prognosis.

"We'll have to amputate immediately."

Durland had burst into tears while Blubs had comforted his partner, promising that he'd always be there for Durland to lean on. Literally, since no one had confidence that Durland had the muscles for crutches.

"Absolutely not," Ford denied. "I'm gravely insulted by the very notion," he deadpanned firmly, causing Mabel to laugh. There wasn't a crack in his expression. It was no wonder that he was so good at poker. Even Stan had a hard time telling when Ford was being serious or not.

"You're so bad." Mabel grinned at him with a giggle as she handed him the last dish.

"Hah. You should have seen me before I became a crotchety old man." Her uncle's expression finally broke into a smile and he nudged her with his elbow playfully. "Laugh while you can. It'll happen to you someday too."

"Getting old?"

"What? No. Getting off on tormenting complete strangers," he explained. They both burst out laughing and Mabel had to lean on the counter to steady herself.

She and Ford had grown so much closer compared to when they'd first met. He and Dipper had hit it off so well that she sometimes felt like she was intruding on them when they were together. Even if they were openly welcoming to her company, she often couldn't really follow what they talked about whether it was Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons or the anomalies. Mabel had just felt like she wasn't compatible with them on that level. And she really wasn't.

It was ironic that she finally really started to connect with him when they hardly saw each other. While he was sailing with Stan, the men often called to check in with their niece and nephew and the stories he'd told had hooked Mabel like nothing else. She might not have understood the science behind it, but he always had an epic story to tell and Mabel loved stories.

It was only a starting point, but it had been all they'd needed. With Dipper just as enthralled and Stan often offering his two cents, she felt like she belonged and they were all getting along like they were supposed to.

What was even more heartening was seeing Stan and Ford acting like real brothers. A far cry from what she'd witnessed when Ford had come from the portal and they literally had their backs turned on one another. A small part of her had feared that being stuck together on a boat would eventually send them at each other's throats again, but she never saw any evidence of it when they talked or visited.

"Thanks for helping me with the dishes by the way." Mabel began to wash the soap bubbles from her hand.

"No problem. It's the least I could do. I also apologize for my absence since you and Dipper have arrived. It's so easy to lose time down there, but that's no excuse," Ford told her.

"Is there a reason you've been so wrapped up in… whatever you're doing recently?" Mabel asked, wiping her hands. "You said something about energy readings?" Mabel frowned thoughtfully. Normally she wouldn't dare risk a question like this that could land her a complicated explanation worse than her physics course, but if it had her grunkle with bags under his eyes and looking close to a hobo, she would chance it.

"Uh, yes." Ford seemed to sense her slight apprehension and spoke simply. "You see, I've been getting these strange patterns and bursts. I've never seen anything like it, but I can't determine if they're real or perhaps my machinery is broken. It's all so old and so many things could be worn, broken or wrong that I don't know where to begin."

"I see…" Mabel really hoped that a certain triangle wasn't responsible. "Just try not to overthink it and take care of yourself," she told him with concern before smiling softly. "After all, I don't think Wendy will appreciate you passing out during her wedding."

Ford returned the look. "Of course. She's one of the last people I want mad at me." The scientist cringed at the memory of Wendy's last ex coming to the Shack to win her back. The poor guy's frontal lobe would never be the same.

With that, the two said goodnight. Ford disappeared into the basement once more and Mabel headed into Soos' break room. Dipper and Libby had taken the attic so she had taken the extra bedroom.

As she undressed to take a shower Mabel felt something in her pocket. After reaching in, she uncurled her hand and frowned at what she saw. In her hand was the tip of Bill's finger that had broken off.

"Fix it later," she mumbled before heading into the bathroom to shower.

…

Mabel groaned as she flopped down on the pillow, face first. The red numbers on her clock told her that she had been at this for two hours. She was definitely tired, but just couldn't sleep and she finally accepted this fact when she sneezed for the tenth time in the last half hour.

Getting up to grab a tissue, she sniffled and stood from her bed, noting that the air was pretty stuffy. They really needed to air out the old room. Reasoning that it was warm enough outside, Mabel opened the windows and headed for the kitchen in a tank top and pajama pants while the stagnant air filtered out of the room.

With a glass of milk, Mabel fingered the piece of stone in her pocket idly, letting her mind drift. She'd shoved it into her pant pocket in an effort not to forget about it, but something told her she wouldn't. It wasn't every day that a two dimensional demon who had nearly destroyed your family gifted you with a fragment of their body after all.

Mabel's nose wrinkled before she softly sneezed again. She prayed that there wasn't dust on her clothes too.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Her head snapped up towards the entrance of the kitchen to see Dipper. "You too?" she asked, doing her best to casually draw her hand out of her pocket.

"No, but my allergies got even worse about five minutes ago and I could tell Libby was at her limit with me," he replied, heading towards the fridge. If he hadn't left on his own he'd sensed that Libby would have thrown him out herself.

"Oh." Mabel blinked. "I thought it was just the dust in the old room."

Dipper laughed softly before quieting. He poured himself some milk and sat down across from Mabel.

"Still upset over your break up?" he inquired, causing Mabel to blink again. She actually hadn't thought about that with much bigger problems to worry about, but now wished boy problems were all it was.

"A little." Mabel ran her finger over the condensation forming on her glass.

"I didn't like him anyway," he murmured, gulping down half of his glass.

Mabel met his eyes with a pointed look. "You don't like any of the guys I like or date."

"Hey, Mermando was okay," Dipper reasoned.

"Then you're not upset over the first kiss thing anymore?" she inquired.

"I didn't say that, but thank you for dredging up that memory I tried so hard to repress." Dipper wiped his mouth off. "Anyway, I was fine with him." Dipper stood by his point.

"Bro, he got married to a Walrus princess." There wasn't much of a chance for them even before that and the twins both knew it. Even if it could have worked out, she realized now that Mermando was a preteen crush and a good friend. Nothing more.

"Queen of the manatees," Dipper corrected her.

"Not the point, Dipper."

"Just saying. It's kind of racist-"

" _Now_ who's not serious?" Mabel retorted with a smirk over the rim of her glass.

"You'll find the right guy someday," Dipper stated earnestly. "How's that for serious?"

"Better." Mabel pretended she didn't look impressed though. She shook her head then, starting to feel depressed about the situation for real once again. "No, it's… it's fine. It's not my first break up, won't be my last."

"That doesn't sound very Mabel-like," Dipper commented admonishingly.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You know that's not what I mean. It's okay to be hurt or sad. But don't give up either."

"I'm not giving up, I'm just… trying to be realistic." Mabel rested her head in her hand with her elbow on the table, frowning. "I… I'm not gonna lie. It's hard to keep trying and when things blow up in my face and I even saw it coming it makes me feel like I was stupid for even thinking things might turn out differently."

Dipper frowned sympathetically. "Trust me, Mabel. I know the feeling of fearing failure or worrying that things will go wrong. Putting yourself out there is scary, but it's the only way to let someone surprise you when things work out," he insisted.

"Says the man who doesn't believe in second chances," she shot back lowly.

"What?"

Mabel grimaced. She didn't mean for it to come out like that. "I just… what if I wanted to give someone a second chance? Or they wanted a second chance with me? They might have hurt me before, yeah, but that doesn't exactly jive with the whole "don't give up" thing." Why was she even asking him this when she wasn't even talking about dating anymore?

" _Is_ someone doing that?" Dipper asked with crossed arms. She could already see he was getting protective. "Asking for a second chance?"

"Just say someone is," Mabel said vaguely. "I know you're all suspicious and paranoid, but… what if something happened with Libby and she wanted a second chance?" It was crude but effective. Dipper's relationship with Libby was great, but it seemed to get through to him because of that.

"Maybe not to date, but be friends," Mabel elaborated. The longer her brother sat there contemplatively, the more she began to feel guilty over her hypothetical scenario and regretted bringing it up. Knowing Dipper, he'd become worried that it might happen for real. Dipper had a problem of making his own self-fulfilling prophecies. If he stressed over something too much it often ended up happening.

At the quiet, pensive look on his face, Mabel shook her head and stood, abandoning her milk. "Just forget it. It was a random thought." She moved to leave.

His hand snaked out to snatch her arm when she passed by, holding her back. His grip was firm but gentle as he glanced back at her from his seat, eyes calm as he set her with a steady gaze.

"I won't tell you what to do, Mabel. You can make your own decisions. But I will tell you what I think," he spoke calmly. Mabel turned to face him and his hand slid from her wrist to her hand to hold it tenderly. The composure and seriousness on his face was stunning to Mabel. Dipper seemed like a different person and she realized he might have changed more than she thought over the years.

"You haven't been the best judge of character. You're self-righteous and you think you're right even when you're dead wrong. You act before you think and your optimism and trust borders on stupidity-"

"I think I'm done wanting to know what you think," Mabel interrupted hurriedly with a blush. She knew exactly what he was talking about and having her mistakes thrown in her face was not helping. "I already feel _so_ much better, so I really just wanna go to bed and-"

"Listen to me." Dipper squeezed her hand with a sigh. "You're not perfect, but neither am I or anyone else. And let's face it. Your decisions tend to work out when it matters. You forgive people, you look past what you can see and people respond to that. _Good_ people do." A small smile cracked on his face. "You might get hurt, but that just means you shouldn't want anything to do with them in the first place. If you just do what you think-no, do what you _feel_ is right, I think you'll be fine."

Mabel stared at Dipper, speechless. "Y-You really think so?" All their lives she was the impulsive, careless one and he was the smart, logical one. Dipper always saw the flaws before they could bite you in the butt and Mabel almost always regretted not listening to him. But every time a similar situation arose she reasoned that it would be different from the past, but it never felt like it was.

"Of course I do, Mab-ah!" Dipper had to grab the table to keep them from tumbling back in his chair when Mabel suddenly tackled him in a hug.

"That means a lot, bro. Thanks." Mabel held back tears, grinning happily. If Dipper thought it was true, maybe she wasn't the perpetual screw up she thought she was at times.

Hearing her sniffle, Dipper smiled and hugged her back. "Allergies acting up again?"

Mabel nodded as Dipper wiped at his own eyes.

"Me too."

…

Why she was not surprised?

"Jeez, Shooting Star. Took you long enough to fall asleep." Bill twirled the handle of the tea pot in his possession with his finger.

"Please just tell me I'm not passed out in the woods." In the past when she'd been pulled into the mindscape her memories before entering it had been somewhat fuzzy until she woke up.

"No, you're safe and sound in your bed… _for now_." Bill broke into a fit of hysterical laughter that trailed as he realized Mabel was staring at him expectantly with her arms crossed, unaffected.

"Psst. Shooting Star. This is the part where you go 'What is that supposed to mean?' or 'Darn you, Bill, and your dastardly plans! You'll never get away with it because we're meddling kids!' or some equally predictable drivel," he informed her with a pointed look.

She stared at him with slightly parted lips. Mabel had expected some mockingly falsetto pantomime of her voice from him. Instead, he had given a strikingly accurate impression of her voice that felt more than a little creepy coming from him, especially in his human form which she was still getting used to.

"You're insane," Mabel declared.

"No shit, Joseph. Or was it Jerome?" (1) A thoughtful look crossed the demon's face. "I can never remember which one it was," he muttered before seeming to mentally dismiss the conundrum by throwing his arms up.

In the process he caused the tea pot he had been twirling to smash into the ground and they both watched as a dark mass filled with multiple melting faces rose from the shattered remains, screaming horrifically before it dispersed into nothing.

"So _that's_ where I put my nightmare fuel," Bill realized with a snap of his fingers.

"Changed my mind," Mabel piped in. "You're beyond insane."

"Ah, shucks. I snort the ashen remains of my victims one eyeful at a time just like everyone else." Bill grinned bashfully.

"… Can I go back to sleep now?" Mabel nearly pleaded, paling as she held her head.

"Ah ah ah, business before pleasure, Shooting Star." Bill wagged his finger at her.

"Like snorting ashen remains?"

"You get more of a high if you add some seasoned salt to it," Bill informed her. "Better flavor too."

"Mabel out." The brunette decided then and turned on her heel to start walking off into the grey abyss. There was nothing ahead of her and she had no idea where she was going or if she was even moving, but it was better than standing there and witnessing Bill's psychotic ways.

"Now now, Shooting Star. Is that any way to treat someone who's trying to make you a very reasonable proposition?" Bill appeared beside her, standing completely still despite the fact that she kept walking and even hurried her pace. Either he was floating along with her or he had her on some kind of invisible treadmill. Or maybe it was neither. Nothing ever made sense in the mindscape.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You make bad deals." She wasn't the stupid little kid anymore that Bill clearly thought she was. The demon always had something up his sleeve and she refused to play along.

"Just hear me out and I may just surprise you," he offered with a smile that was sickeningly innocent.

"Do I have a choice?" Mabel finally stopped and turned to him, crossing her arms dully.

"Nope!"

* * *

(1) Joseph Bell and Jerome Caminada: two men suspected to be the real life inspiration for Sherlock Holmes. Which one has yet to be concluded.

Author's Note: You guys are all just too awesome and wonderful. Thank you so much for your comments and even if you didn't comment thanks for taking the time to read my story. It really means a lot to me. Writing is a personal thing and should be done for you and not for anyone else, but you guys really make writing worthwhile for me. You'll hear this spiel a lot, but I really mean it and really do thank you all.


	5. Chapter 5

Mabel wanted to wipe the smile off his face with a sharp backhand. That annoying, sly, all-too-innocent face he wore at her only made her frown deepen.

"You're joking. This is a bad joke and any moment now you're gonna shout 'Psych!' and laugh in my face," Mabel stated resolutely.

"Nope. I mean it." His smile didn't falter.

"Even you can't be insane enough to think that I'd buy you saying 'Let's be friends!'" It was honestly very insulting.

"Maybe not, but I don't care to mince words… right now. That is what we'd essentially be doing, wouldn't we?" Bill leaned on his cane as he acted as if he were pointing out the obvious.

"Run that by me again?" Mabel sighed and began to bend her knees to sit down on the floor, but instead fell back onto a sofa she knew hadn't been there a moment ago.

Bill tsked and walked over to sit beside Mabel who immediately scooched over to reclaim the distance between them.

"Like I said, make a deal with me." He threw his legs up in the air, crossing them before they fell back down onto a stool that materialized before him. "You said you wanted to understand me. And while I buy that you can do that as much as I buy that the Titanic sinking was an "accident"-" He paused then and met her eyes, whispering with a conspiratory tone. "Hint hint. It was me." He pointed at himself smugly with a proud gleam in his eye.

Mabel balked and then leaned her face into her hand, muttering, "I should have figured."

"Anyway," Bill brightly brought them back to the subject at hand. "While I have absolutely no faith in you, I'm willing to offer you the opportunity to try," he finished. "To understand me. Not sink the Titanic," he clarified. "That ship has already sailed… and sunk. Wanna see the pictures?" A photo album suddenly appeared in his hand. "You like scrapbooks, right? Here's me looking for the right iceberg and here's me with the frozen body of the captain-"

"Moving on!" Mabel interrupted and dragged her hand from her face. "In this deal I'd get to try and understand you," she began and crossed her arms with a suspicious look. "And all I'd have to do is-?"

"Visit me…" Bill trailed and looked up as if trying to decide how to continue. "Every now and again." He concluded, shrugging carelessly and threw the scrapbook behind him which caused a loud crash. Mabel didn't look back to see what it had crashed into.

"And that's it?" Mabel asked.

"Yep."

"No strings attached?"

"Unless you want some."

"We'd just sit and talk?"

"Well, if you wanna make the visits boring as a Stanford." Bill scowled.

"What are you playing at?" Mabel narrowed her eyes at him.

"What can I say?" Bill sighed, sinking further into the couch with his arms crossed. "Being stuck in my body for thirteen years… it felt like damn near forever." His one visible eye shut. "There was no one around and I was completely isolated. I could make anything I wanted like a god, but after a while it just got… boring." Mabel had never heard his tone so quiet and solemn before. In fact, she'd been convinced his only volume was mild yelling up until this moment.

"Everything was bland. I knew what every one of my creations would do… and in the end I guess I got the party I've always wanted, but it just felt so empty. I had no one to share it with. I had no one to care about me or what happened to me. It was… cold."

Bill then opened his eye and turned his wistful gaze to Mabel. "I told myself that if the head-splitting monotony ever ended that I would change. I know I didn't seem like it earlier, but I was relishing the first contact with anyone and anything I've had in a long time. It felt good to feel again and I don't want to drive my one chance at it away," he finally finished, his expression neutral as he awaited her response.

Mabel met his gaze, her countenance giving nothing away. He sounded as if he'd had it rough and really understood the error of his ways. And now all he wanted was a second chance.

"Bill?" Her voice was soft.

"Yes, Mabel?" It was odd to hear him use her name for once instead of his nickname for her, Shooting Star.

"Do you really… expect me to believe that?" Mabel asked in utter disbelief, a look of disgust on her face.

Bill feigned a sheepish look. "I was kind of hoping you would, but it was still worth a shot!" Bill was all grins again and before she could react, the demon reached his arm over and pulled her in by the shoulders. "So whaddaya say, Shooting Star? Is it a deal?" With his arm slung over her, he offered his flaming hand to her.

"Not in your wildest dreams, Cipher." Mabel grimaced, trying to pull away from his grasp, but his arm was snaked around her like steel.

"Oh, come on! What do you have to lose?" Bill frowned. How could her discovering his fraudulent sincerity _not_ work?

"Knowing you? Everything." No matter how seemingly innocent of a deal it appeared to be, Mabel didn't have a good feeling about it and was going to trust her gut. Just because she felt some inclination towards allowing the demon to redeem himself didn't mean she was going to give in to every deal he offered her.

Finally letting Mabel go with a huff, Bill crossed his arms. His hand was still on fire and it went on to spread over his entire body, engulfing him in blue flames as he sulked while Mabel reeled back from the blaze.

"I'm starting to see just how much you and Ford are related. One sour deal where I possessed someone-"

"My brother!" Mabel interjected angrily.

"And you don't want anything to do with me!" he exclaimed in bafflement. A rain cloud appeared over his head, water dumping down onto him and putting out the flames.

"Are you sorry for Weirdmageddon?" Mabel asked.

"Not even in _your_ wildest dreams," he'd ensure that, "and definitely not here," the soaked blond answered easily. Even if he lied and said yes, he doubted she'd buy it.

"Then you and your deals can rot until the lizard people take over and the sun explodes!"

Bill frowned. "… If you make a deal with me, I could actually make that happen-"

"No!"

"Well, aren't you a field of radioactive, homicidal daisies?" Bill grumbled sarcastically. "And _not_ the fun ones!" He added with a scowl.

"I try," Mabel said dryly.

The two stared each other down until Bill finally turned away with a disgruntled noise.

"I guess it's fine. Whatever." He folded his arms behind his head casually as Mabel frowned suspiciously at how easily he was giving up. "Because, ya know. Whether or not you make deal with me, in the end I'll still…" Bill paused and gave her a sly, secretive look.

Mabel's eyes narrowed. What could he possibly do to her?

"Be the one who gave you the finger!"

A replica of Bill's statue arm appeared in his hand and he used to it poke at Mabel's cheek and side, laughing. "Ha ha! Get it? Get it, Shooting Star?"

"Does that even work since you have only four fingers?" Mabel deadpanned with annoyance as she tried to block his incessant prodding. He technically didn't even have a middle finger.

"Hm. Maybe not." Bill's pokes ceased as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "But it does now since I only have three!" His poking began again even faster with his new middle digit and he snickered. "Ha! This is comedy gold."

Mabel growled. "Would you stop!?" She shot to her feet, grabbed the stone limb and chucked it into the grey abyss.

Bill gaped before pinning her with an affronted look. "That was _completely_ uncalled for. You don't see _me_ throwing _your_ detached limbs around the mindscape." He placed his hand over his heart as if wounded. "I expect an apology in the form of a zebra painted all black, a sheet of ice with my image burned on it or your eternal soul."

"Why are you this way, Bill?" Mabel muttered feebly.

"I actually wouldn't mind telling you, but by the time I start explaining, you waking up is going to cut me off-"

Mabel's eyes snapped open, instantly burning against the bright light of the morning sun. Worse yet, she hardly felt rested at all. Mentally, at least.

"Damn dream demons." The young woman turned onto her stomach. She groaned at the sight of the clock and rubbed her tired eyes, apprehensive of falling asleep once more even though she was very tempted to.

A flash of inspiration gave her the solution to that.

"Coffee."

…

To her surprise, Mabel had no trouble staying awake at all. But it wasn't because of coffee.

"Cold cold cold cold cold." She clung to her jean jacket desperately to maintain some warmth as she hurried down the damp sidewalk, teeth chattering lightly.

It had been mild when she had gone outside, spurred on by an impromptu journey for coffee when she had found the tin in the kitchen to be empty. Thinking nothing of the short trip into town, Mabel hadn't even spared the winter coat in the closet a second glance.

She'd thought spring equaled warmth. Oh, how she loathed her naive past self from twenty minutes ago for her current predicament. The temperature had sharply dropped by the time she had gotten into town and, while not bitterly cold in an instant, the length of time she'd spent in it had slowly made the cold sink into her, easily creeping past her flimsy jacket.

Where she had even been graced by a beam of warm sunlight when she had taken the car to drive into town, clouds now blocked the shining ball in the sky from view and wisps of light snow even flew through the air, dusting the sidewalks before melting upon contact with the meager temperatures of the concrete and paved road. It had really hit her how cold it was when she'd stepped out of the safety of her car and the wind picked up, stripping even more heat from her exposed skin. What she wouldn't do for a pair of pants instead of the skirt she'd foolishly worn.

She was sure if Ford or Dipper were there they would have been able to explain the abominable reasoning behind how it was possible for the weather at the Mystery Shack to be perfectly bearable while the weather in town reminded her of the tundra wasteland of Canada where she'd once spent a weekend in a friend's cabin. And why her fingers were turning an alarming shade of purple.

The coffee shop she'd been heading to at least had street parking right in front of it. Too bad all the parking spots were taken up by the crowd that appeared to have been brought in by some special at Greasy's diner, forcing Mabel to park several blocks down and brave the elements to get to the shop.

So no, grogginess no longer threatened to lull her to sleep. A healthy dose of self-preservation from the possibility of being frozen alive was easily keeping her awake and alert.

With the door to the shop in sight, Mabel let out a visible, misty sigh of relief and spring forward on her feet to reach the heated indoors. Flinging the door open, Mabel's eyes went half-lidded in contentment as a rush of warm air washed over her.

They abruptly snapped wide open as her feet slipped forth on the tiled ground. In her haste, she'd failed to notice the yellow sign on the ground or that it was damp from being freshly moped until it was too late. Instinctively, she dug her heels in to skid to a stop, but that maneuver only made her lose her balance. With flailing her arms, her legs spasmed and slid while trying to regain her footing before they gave out when she bent too much of her weight backwards. Snapping her eyes shut with a flinch, Mabel braced for impact.

It didn't hurt quite as much as she thought it would. And it was kind of soft and warm too.

Blinking at the feeling of hands grasping her arms, the brunette noted that she was still upright and that someone had caught her. Without thinking, she pushed herself off of her savior and turned to them, sputtering.

"I-I'm so sorr-ah!" Hitting the slick part of the floor once again, she fell forward, grasping onto the front of the person of her own volition this time before they reached out to catch her once again.

Learning her lesson this time and stilling against them, Mabel panted and took a moment to compose herself just as she heard and felt a light chuckle erupt from the broad chest holding her.

"I've heard of guys who have women fall into their arms, but I didn't think it'd be this easy," the man laughed before coughing as if catching himself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh. Are you okay, Miss?"

The strong pair of hands steadied Mabel, who ensured that she stood on dry, non-slippery ground before looking up at the stranger.

"Y-Yeah. I was just… in a hurry. Sorry." She laughed nervously, trailing as she met his face.

"It's no problem." His eyes and mouth were all she needed to see to know that he was smiling at her, but Mabel would be lying if she didn't say that the sight was a bit unnerving.

"Do I have something on my face?" He asked when he noticed her blank stare.

"Uh, no. I… just like your ski mask," Mabel uttered bluntly, blinking.

"Thanks. It's pretty cold out there. Well, take care of yourself." With that, the man headed to the counter to go order some coffee, getting a few wary looks for his covered face.

Funny how a six fingered hand hardly deterred her as a child, but a simple ski mask could now give Mabel pause. Maybe because it reminded her of all those throw away bad guys from superhero cartoons when she was little. The words "hands up!" sounded way more appropriate than "take care of yourself" from a figure with a concealed face, but who was she to judge? If she had known how cold it was outside, _she_ might have opted to wear a ski mask herself.

Turning her attention back to her mission, Mabel walked over and scanned the shelves in the shop for coffee beans before settling on one. No one had been awake when she'd gone downstairs, so she'd taken it upon herself to make the errand to supply them with caffeine. However, given the weather, Mabel deemed herself in need of a warm shot herself before she left.

The place wasn't overly crowded, but as she waited, Mabel reached into her jacket for her wallet. By the time she was in front of the register, however, her face had shifted from content to abject disbelief while her heart dropped to her stomach.

"What can I get you, Miss?" The barista behind the counter asked.

Mabel could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears and after a moment, she let out a defeated sigh. "Uh, nothing, I… I still need to think." She forced a polite smile before walking back to the shelf and shoving the bag of coffee beans back onto it.

"Why me?" Mabel murmured miserably as she sunk back down on one of the wooden chairs near the entrance. It wasn't the worst fate to befall her, but her mission was now a complete and utter failure.

Staring at the piece of stone that she'd found in her pocket, it took a fair amount of her will power not to throw it to the ground. Instead, she angrily shoved it into her jeans.

She'd forgotten her wallet.

Yet, she had somehow managed to remember to slip Bill's "gift" into her pocket. Maybe, in some other sort of cosmic way she'd never understand, Bill really did "give her the finger" just like he'd said.

Her trip, her suffering was all for naught. But there was nothing she could do about it now. Maybe she could at least find some tea at home. Even though Stan declared that it tasted like watery grass to him, Ford enjoyed it sometimes even though his preferred drink was coffee.

Helplessly taking a moment to sit down, warm herself and mentally prepare before she'd eventually have to trek back to her car, Mabel checked her phone, finding texts from both Grenda and Candy.

The last she'd heard of Grenda was that things were getting a little complicated with Marius. Though they'd been together for so long, it turned out to be an on and off relationship. His dad liked her, but his mother and Grenda could really butt heads at times. That wasn't even the only problem though, because, as of late, the baritone-voiced brunette had been complaining about how clingy and jealous the Austrian prince could get and had been taking some time away by herself. But surely enough, Grenda was now telling Mabel that they were back together and coming as a couple for the wedding.

Compared to Grenda's stable-ish relationship and Mabel's endless dating failures, Candy hadn't been quite so interested in the dating scene and had instead thrown herself into her work as an engineer. If anything, she was more interested in creating a boyfriend than finding one, but that was just her side project that was still in the works. The soft spoken Korean girl was highly sought out for her skill in robotics and companies begged her to come work for them.

Both her and Grenda had long since left Gravity Falls, so they had to travel back to their hometown, but they were set to arrive fairly soon. Grenda would no doubt be arriving on Marius' yacht and Candy was probably flying first class.

Glancing out of the window behind her and cringing visibly, Mabel suppressed a groan as she got ready to leave. The sound of rustling paper caused her head to snap back to the table in front of her where a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming coffee sat.

"Uh, excuse me!" Mabel quickly got over her shock to call to the employee that had turned on their heel to leave the moment they had set down the items.

"Yes, Miss?" spoke the same barista from the front register.

"What is this?" Mabel pointed to the coffee and bag in confusion like she'd never seen such objects before in her life.

"Your coffee," he replied, giving her an odd but not impatient look.

"But I didn't buy anything." She glanced into the paper bag and found the coffee beans that she had taken and returned to the shelf earlier.

"Oh!" The man's face lit up in realization. "Your friend told me to give it you. He just left. Said he was in a hurry, so he couldn't say goodbye," he explained with a smile before heading to the back before Mabel could reply.

"Friend?" At a loss for a moment, Mabel then glanced up and scanned the coffee shop, but couldn't see the black ski mask covered head anywhere.

Picking up the cup of black coffee, Mabel turned it in her hand and found a message scrawled in intricate loopy cursive: _"Walk safe and stay warm."_

A soft smile slowly curved on her lips. "A friend, indeed."

* * *

Author's Note: So I'm struggling a little with how I should write this story. Previously, I've decided each chapter by either word count, the events that occur in it or where would it simply be a good breaking point. I'm doing my best to space out events and keep a good pacing, but I find it hard to fill an entire long chapter with events and things to write about, yet I want to make my updates long enough for you guys to get immersed and see a fair chunk of new stuff. At the same time, I don't want to have major plot points or events single chapters away from one another as I worry things are moving too fast then.

So, I'm curious. Basically, would you guys prefer longer chapters that take me a longer time to write or shorter chapters that come out more frequently? I'll probably still do both or whatever works best for me, but I just wanted to know what you guys think.

Thanks for reading! I reply to all comments and thank you for your time! ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you _sure_ you got a PhD in physics?"

"Har har. This isn't as easy as it looks you know."

"Soos has already set up four of them." She pointed out before adding with a furrowed brow. "And he took a break to feed a squirrel."

"Then obviously he didn't get one with a rusted leg."

"I thought rust was supposed to look… well, rusty," Mabel commented, scrutinizing the smooth metal leg of the foldable table that Dipper had failed to set up for the last five minutes. Reeling back when her brother finally seemed to figure out what he needed to do after staring at the uncooperative table, she took a cursory glance around the before snapping her head back to him.

"It's rusty in between the joints from sitting around for years. You just can't see it," Dipper grumbled as he placed his foot on the underside of the table. It was flipped to lie on its top, exposing the foldable legs. Gritting his teeth, he tried to pull one up by force while his sister watched with a raised brow.

"You're gonna pull a muscle." Mabel crossed her arms as her brother struggled.

"I'm not… gonna… pull…" The taller twin's reply was lost as he strained to pull at the metal bar. Seconds ticked by and, just when Mabel was about to speak up again, the leg popped out and sent Dipper flying onto his back in the dirt with a grunt.

"See?" He panted. "I can-AH! Charley horse!" He held his calf in pain as writhed on the ground, falling onto his side while his eyes began to tear up in pain. "Oooh my god! Uuuhh! This is the worst!" He hissed, taking quick deliberate breaths to work through the agony of the muscle spasm.

"Congratulations, bro! You did it!" Mabel clapped with a bright smile, praising his accomplishment. "Now do the other leg," she challenged him, pointing to the half-unfolded table.

"Oh! I didn't know there were more tables," Soos observed as he approached the twins. "Let me get that for you dudes." With ease, the handyman popped the last leg out and turned the table right side up the next moment. "All done." He glanced around the front of the Mystery Shack littered with tables, his hands on his waist. There was a small smile of pride on his face until he looked down and noticed Dipper.

"Uh, you okay, dude?"

"Peachy," Dipper squeaked out as he rubbed his leg in order to soothe his protesting muscles.

"Thanks so much for coming by to help, Soos," Mabel spoke brightly as she laid a table cloth over the table and secured it. "We really needed it." She grew somber as she took an inconspicuous glance at Dipper. With Ford in the basement, Stan working on just clearing out the interior of the Shack and Dipper being… Dipper, there was a lot to get done before the reunion party tomorrow and not a lot of capable hands to do it.

"No problem. I may run the Shack now, but I'll always see Stan as my boss. So if he calls and tells me to "drop whatever you're doing and get over here and help!" then that's what I'll do," Soos declared.

Mabel smiled. Same old Soos. The dark skinned man hadn't really changed that much over the years physically. Sure, he looked older like anyone would, but maybe it was just his same old attitude that made Mabel feel like he'd hardly aged at all. The only real difference was that he dressed up like Stan had for the tours and, instead of his old cap, he now always wore the fez that Stan had given him.

"I think we're about good out here," Dipper commented when he finally recovered from his pulled muscle. "And due for a lunch break." The manual labor, such as putting the decorations up and setting the stage in the rec room, was practically done at this point. All they needed to do tomorrow was set out the food.

"Sounds great!" Soos cheered at the prospect of food. "By the way, I haven't seen Libby since you first got here. Is she in the Shack?" Soos asked then, thinking that they should go get her as well.

The twins paused in their walk to the front door, looking at one another, and it took Soos a moment to realize that they had lagged behind.

"Uh, is everything okay?" He stopped to glance back at them with worry.

"I guess we forgot to tell you." Mabel looked over to Dipper with an uncertain frown.

He took the cue and continued. "Actually, Libby had to leave." He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.

"What? But you and she just got here. How come?" Soos turned to face them.

"This morning she got a call from her mom. It was kind of sudden, but her dad has to get this surgery," Dipper began.

Soos' surprise matched Mabel's when she had come back from her coffee run and seen Dipper's girlfriend leaving with her luggage in the car.

Seeing this, Dipper quickly added, "It's pretty standards stuff, but the recovery period is rough and with her mom already gone on a cruise with some friends, even if she leaves today, she won't get there before Libby's dad has to get the surgery. Until then, someone needs to take care of him, so Libby elected herself to go."

Dipper had offered to come with, but Libby had refused and insisted that he stay to attend Wendy's wedding. As she'd explained, it wasn't life threatening, so he couldn't use it as an excuse to get out of the formal event. Her joking to lighten the mood hadn't gone over well with him, but he'd relented, knowing what a fit she'd throw if he forced her to take him with.

"Oh? Well, when will she be back?" Soos' shoulders sagged with slight relief.

"Probably not until after the wedding," Mabel answered with a frown. She had been looking forward to going with her possible future sister-in-law to the bachelorette party too.

"Yeah. So me and her agreed we'd just meet up back home," Dipper told Soos. "It sucks, but at least she'll be able to hang out with her dad for a while." Without him. He was fairly certain the father had accepted Dipper as his daughter's boyfriend, but he could swear he still felt watchful eyes on his back whenever the man was cleaning his shotgun.

Soos nodded with a sympathetic smile. "It'll probably be boring around here until the wedding anyway," he reasoned. "It's not like anything exciting ever happen-"

A loud yowl, beeping and a scratching noise cut the handyman off and all three swung their head towards the source. The sound was coming from inside the Shack and, cautiously, Dipper reached forward and opened the door. A greyish blur immediately ran past them and ducked under the planks of the Shack just as a blast of smoke hit their faces, causing them all to cough.

"Chibi-chan?" Soos cried out, glancing at the hiding feline. A few months ago, he and Melody had found the cat wandering the property and taken it in, but since no pets were allowed in their apartment, Stan had reluctantly taken in the grey tabby cat at Soos' begging request.

Further inside, they could hear disgruntled swears and yelling and the twins quickly ran inside, Soos following behind. Tracing the smoke to the kitchen, they were met with the scene of Stanley assaulting a large fire ablaze on the stove with an oven mitt while a thick layer of black smoke obscured the ceiling completely. Other than the fact that he was literally only fanning the flames, his attempts to contain the fire were even more futile since the oven mitt he was using was also on fire.

"Oh my god!" Dipper exclaimed before nearly tackling his grunkle to get him out of the way. "Stan! Stop!" he shouted, gritting his teeth at the intense heat radiating from the flames.

"Mabel, the fire extinguisher! Soos, get the windows open!" He directed the other two who each worked quickly to save the Shack from burning down. Soos opened the windows to let out the smoke just as Mabel found the extinguisher and began to fight back the flames.

After ten minutes, the fire was out, the kitchen was covered in white from the fire extinguisher and black from the char that remained a foot in every direction of the stove and everyone was laid out on the floor, covered in soot, some of their hair a bit singed.

"Man, talk about intense. How did this happen?" Soos asked tiredly, panting.

They all turned their heads to Stan who shifted his gaze left to right nervously before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Look, the meat wasn't cooking very fast, so I thought I'd turn up the heat," he explained simply.

"Aaaand?" Dipper knew that couldn't be all.

"Well, it still wasn't cooking fast enough and there was this documentary on "The Duchess Apr-" I mean… football. Yeah." Stan paused as if to let the correction to his Freudian slip sink in. "Anyway, all I did was step away for a minute or two and-"

"It caught fire." Mabel sighed while Dipper rubbed at his temples in frustration.

"Yeah, but then all I had to put it out with was the cat's water dish," Stan admitted gruffly. "So I threw that at the fire, but it only got bigger. Water makes grease fires worse, who knew?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, but immediately recoiled with a yelp.

"Are you okay?" Mabel immediately crawled over to the conman and winced at the sight of the angry red welts on his hand.

"Crap. Does he need to go to the hospital?" Dipper asked, leaning over to try and get a look at the damage.

After a moment of careful inspection, Mabel replied definitively. "No, but he's gonna have to be careful for a while." With the help of Soos, they got Stan on his feet.

"Would you guys calm down?" Stan groused, shrugging the two of them off. "This hand has punched a pterodactyl, a giant squid _and_ a demon. I'm not some baby that needs-AH! FLYING MONKEYS!"

Stan swiped his hand away protectively after Dipper poured a bottle of water over the burned hand. It was cool on his skin, but only aggravated the burn even more. Stan clenched his teeth with a groan as he cradled his shaking limb.

"Just get him taken care of." Dipper turned to Mabel, crossing his arms. "Me and Soos'll clean this all up-"

"WHAT'S HAPPENING!? Did the fire wasps get in here again!?" Ford slid into the kitchen with his laser gun at the ready. When he saw the owlish eyes of his family staring at him (or more specifically his weapon), he slowly lowered the gun and squinted at Stanley suspiciously. "Or a grooming incident gone wrong?" he pondered. He opted to burn away his facial hair as such, lighting it on fire rather than shaving as it was much faster and efficient, but he admitted that it did take a certain trick or two to get it right.

"Neither, Poindexter. I burned lunch," Stanley deadpanned.

"Oh… what a shame…" Ford mumbled in monotone under his breath, noting the burned stove. It was a sacrifice he would gladly make to avoid his brother's cooking.

"Ya know, if you stuck your head out of the basement once in a while you'd know if it was fire wasps, shaving or whatever. It took you like, what? Fifteen minutes to notice the house nearly got burned down," Stanley pointed out bluntly.

Ford held his chin thoughtfully. "To be fair, the house from ground level down is fire proof, so if the house actually _did_ burn to the ground, I'd still be just fine downstair-"

"Okay, okay, enough!" Mabel shouted before pointing to Ford. "You help clean and you," she began to push Stan towards the doorway, "come to the bathroom with me before your burns get infected and you lose your hands again."

The identical twins grumbled under their breath, but did as they were told and soon Mabel was running cool water over Stan's red hand. He sat on the toilet while his niece began to comb the bathroom for the first aid kit.

"And you wonder why Ford stopped letting you cook on the boat," Mabel teased lightly, trying to distract Stan from the pain of his hand.

"Hey, when it comes to seafood, overcooking is worth it. You wanna get sick from eating raw fish?" Stan groused, doing his best not to flinch at the throbbing pangs in his hand.

"The two of you _did_ get sick," Mabel pointed out, trying to contain her amused smile. "From your cooking. Which is when Ford stopped letting you cook."

"Meh." Stan waved his good hand dismissively. "It's all in that guy's head. I cooked for you kids all summer before he came and you were just fine."

Mabel decided not to mention how they would be writhing in pain from stomach aches after a meal Stan had cooked, even when they hardly ate anything. The twins' only solace was that Stan was more often than not too lazy to cook. Back then, they had mostly persisted off of take-out and leftovers.

"I swear, ever since we got back, that knuckle head has been closer and closer to going off the deep end." Stan sighed. Sometimes when he walked around the quiet house he almost forgot himself and could think that he was still brotherless and trying to find a way to open the apocalypse-inducing portal to bring him back.

Mabel frowned as she found what she was looking for and reached under the sink to retrieve the first aid kit. "Have you tried talking to him about it?" Though their relationship was worlds away from what it had been before, it wasn't perfect. Ten years on a boat together and they still had communication problems.

Plus, once they'd gotten back, Stan had taken up managing the Mystery Shack again while Ford had found that the mysteries of Gravity Falls had only grown while he was away and that he had some major catching up to do. The brothers had tried to stick together as a team in the beginning, but Stan couldn't handle the incessant adventures while Ford had thrived on them. Spending thirty years in the portal, Mabel supposed that it was do or die when dealing with the anomalies. Getting Ford out of the habit of constantly learning wasn't easy when it had taken over his life even before he'd been pulled into the portal and been his means of surviving while inside.

"Yeah, but it's in one ear and out the other. He says he'll stop, but the next day he's down there or out on monster hunts. I mean, I'm a fun guy. I'm up for a death-defying adventure now and then, but Ford brings it to a whole new level," Stan explained with a scowl. "I thought maybe you guys coming would break him out of it. Make him realize that he still has family and that he's not on his own. But I don't know anymore."

Stan wasn't blind to the loneliness that gripped Ford. Hell, it was a miracle his brother wasn't insane from spending decades in the portal. He wasn't exactly stable when he'd called Stan all those years ago with the intent to dump the third journal on him and even now, Ford still woke up some nights screaming. But instead of embracing what he had back, he almost seemed to recoil from it at times, like it was almost too much for him to handle.

"Look, I know you're getting antsy about Ford becoming a moleman downstairs, but I'm working on it," Mabel confessed to her great uncle as she pulled his hand out from under the water and sprayed disinfectant on. She'd noticed it too, though she didn't realize just how bad it was. At the very least, it was setting off alarms for Stan and could be the start of another rift between the brothers if it wasn't nipped in the bud.

"I'm not worried," Stan rebuked firmly before his tough façade waned. "But… I mean, I thought that ten years of this stuff would have gotten it out of his system. But when we got back, he just threw himself into the mysteries and anomalies again."

Mabel nodded, knowing the fear of being pushed aside for the strange. "Ford will come around. He just needs the right… push." She began to wrap his hand in the gauze. "And when it comes to pushing, I know how to do it the hardest." She gave him a bright grin and lightly punched his arm. "Just trust me."

Stan playfully rubbed his arm and looked up at Mabel with a small smile. "If anyone can do it, it'd be you, pumpkin." Once Mabel was done, Stan stood and announced blandly, "Welp, I've had my fill of combustion related injuries for the day. I'm gonna go grab Ford's wallet and order us a pizza."

Before he left the bathroom, Mabel giggled and yelled, "Can I get sardines on mine?"

"Eugh!" She laughed at his audible disgust. "Only if you want me to disown you!" Stan shouted back. He'd gotten really sick of fish during their ten year trip and could now hardly stand the stuff.

Grinning, Mabel put the med kit away and stood just before she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

"Look who's back," Mabel murmured with a smile as she spotted the cat. However, when she crouched and leaned forward to pet the tabby, it only retreated backwards, dashing out the door before leaning in to peek around the corner at her once more.

"Still being difficult, huh?" Chibi-chan had done this ever since she'd been found by Soos and Melody. Mabel would think the cat was afraid of her if not for the playfully expectant look on her face and how her tail slithered happily when Mabel made eye contact.

The only people she really let pet her were Soos, Melody and, oddly enough, Ford. However, Mabel suspected that the kitty liked Stan and simply loved to mess with him, like lying on his lap only to leap away the moment he moved in hopes to pet her.

"Come on, Chi. I wanna be your friend," Mabel cooed at the cat. Though Soos had decided to name her Chibi-chan in honor of his love for anime, manga and the Japanese, he often called her Chicha or Chica as if he couldn't decide which nickname he wanted to call her. Since he tended to call her one of the three names at any given time, it had become too confusing for everyone else, so they simply tended to call her Chi.

She was a pretty thing, with dark, grey fur, black stripes and most interesting of all, different colored eyes. One was green while the other was blue with a strange hue that almost looked violet in the right light. Given what Mabel had seen of the anime Soos watched, it was no wonder that he named her with anime in mind. The eye and hair colors on those characters were crazy.

"Fine." Mabel stood with a huff when the cat maintained their distance. She'd even tried to use a cat toy to entice the tabby. "Be that way. Just know one thing, Chi," she remarked with a devious smile, receiving a meow in response. "There's more than one way to befriend a cat."

* * *

Author's Note: I was a little surprised at how many people mentioned the ski mask guy, but I was glad to know people are intrigued. I'm no Alex Hirsch (far from him), but with this story and other things I am trying to recapture some of the things that they did like leaving clues and hints to the story and putting forth some degree of symbolism, so keep your eyes peeled as you read! I don't promise some grand twist that could really be concluded to like Ford's reveal of course, but at some point, if you read back, you'll find that I left a tell or two behind. ;) See? I can plan some things! XD

However, I'd still love to hear suggestions from you guys if you have any.


	7. Chapter 7

Dipper was getting his ass handed to him. And none too lightly either.

"Your move, bro." He swore his sister's face could split in two from her sly grin.

"Just nice and easy, dude." At least Soos was trying to be nice about it.

"Come on, kid. I ain't gettin' any younger and those sleeping pills I took are gonna kick in within the hour." Stan was supportive as always.

With a deep exhale, Dipper glanced at everyone once more before looking down at the table in front of him. Better to get it over with quickly.

With one last glance around, he swiftly flipped the card up and threw it onto the pile. In the next second, he and everyone else dove to smack their hands down on the center of the table and a resounding crack filled the air.

"Hey! You finally got it!" Mabel cheered.

"Nice job, dude," Soos congratulated Dipper.

"After forty two rounds, it's about time," Stan said gruffly.

All three lifted their hands from where they'd harshly slammed their palms down, revealing Dipper's underneath, reigning victorious atop the large pile of cards.

"Winning… hurts…" Dipper groaned, his whole body slumped on top of the table as his bright red hand twitched.

"No pain, no game," Mabel smiled as she grabbed one of the last pieces of leftover pizza. They'd eaten it cold, too lazy to heat it and also reluctant to use any sort of heating appliance after Stan had nearly set the whole kitchen on fire and succeeded halfway.

In the aftermath, sadly, Ford had deduced that the stove had been on its last legs and that it had gone to the big kitchen in the sky. That wasn't a problem since they were grilling for the party, but any cooking in the kitchen would now be limited to what they could make in the microwave. But Mabel had done more with less.

"It's no pain, no gain." Dipper dragged himself up and flexed his stinging hand with a flinch.

"Hah! Not for you," Stan guffawed.

"Tis' truly a game of pain for the winner and instant revenge for the losers." Soos nodded seriously. "So who are the true winners?" he pondered aloud.

After getting all the preparation for the party done, Mabel had suggested they play a game, but with Stan's hand, it had taken a little thinking to decide on what to play so that he wouldn't be at a disadvantage. Then she'd suggested a game called Slap, where, depending on the order of the cards they threw in the center from their respective decks, they could slap their hands down and take the whole pile. It seemed like it would work for their currently disabled grunkle, but Dipper found that it might have worked too well.

He never thought a game of cards would be so physically demanding. Mabel had easily been in the lead, obviously more familiar with the game, but by the time Soos and Stan had picked it up (after the latter had stopped mistaking the game for Punch and slamming his fist down on the table with his brass knuckles), Dipper was the one at a disadvantage. Even when he got over instinctively recoiling from his family's hands violently pounding on the table when a slap opportunity presented itself, he was still always too slow to get his hand on the cards first.

Now that he'd "won" a round, he began to wonder just what their hands were all made of as all three took the abuse of being on the bottom of the slap pile without a single flinch.

"Hey, is there anymore pizza?" Dipper changed the subject, rubbing his sore hand.

"I think so, why?" Mabel asked as she finished up her slice.

"I'm thinking I'll sit the next round out and bring some down for Ford. Haven't seen him since lunch," Dipper pointed out.

While Mabel had taken care of Stan, Dipper, Ford and Soos had cleaned up the kitchen. He and Ford had gotten into talking about just what had been keeping the older man so occupied as of late and Dipper hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since.

"Let me guess. More mystery talk," Stan spoke with a scowl. He'd heard from Soos all the sciency stuff that Dipper and Ford had been talking about (in far less scientific terms) while he and Mabel had been out of the room. "Take my advice, kid, and steer clear of that stuff. It's like a black hole. If you're not careful, it'll suck you in and we'll never get you back." Dipper and Ford were too alike for their own good.

"While that's… actually a pretty accurate description of a black hole," Dipper admitted in surprise. "I think I'll be fine," he said with a reassuring smile.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Mabel stood from the table. "Come on, Dippy. Don't run out on the game just when you're starting to make some progress," she teased him.

"Yeah, kid. You ain't getting out of this that easy," Stan smirked.

Before Dipper could reply, Mabel cut in. "I'll bring him some food. You guys keep playing." Standing, she reached down slowly to pet Chi who was taking a drink from her water dish. However, the cat's ears instantly perked and she bowed out of Mabel's reach before turning to the woman with a curious look, ears up and alert.

"Darn it," Mabel hissed at her failed surprise attack. Not even rubbing catnip on her hand was working.

"But-" Dipper stood in his chair only to get pulled down by the back of his shirt by Stan.

"Sit down and shut up. You got plenty to time to geek out with Ford later."

"Come on, dude. It'll be fun. I think you're starting to get the hang out of it," Soos told him with a smile.

"Fine," Dipper huffed as he watched his sister walk into the kitchen. At least Stan had stopped wearing the brass knuckles or Dipper might be the next one reduced to one good hand.

…

"Ford, I swear. This place is either connected to a duct of raw sewage or I'm going to walk in here and find your rotting corpse."

Mabel coughed and covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve as she entered the lab. The place was worse than Soos' break room when she'd arrived and had so much dust everywhere that she wouldn't be surprised if a vacuum had exploded.

"Mabel? Has the party already started?" Ford asked, turning to her in his seat in front of the monitor. Parties weren't really his scene, but he had promised to show up for at least a little while.

"No. That's tomorrow. It's still Friday," Mabel told him, trying not to roll her eyes at his horrible sense of time. "I came down to bring you some pizza," she added.

"Friday?" Ford glanced down at his watch and squinted. "Well, what do you know?" he uttered in mild astonishment, scratching his head.

When Mabel set the pizza down, she was glad to see Ford still had some of his priorities straight when he snatched the food the moment she set it down.

"Thank you, sweetie," Ford spoke between bites. "I didn't realize how hungry I was until now."

"I bet…" Mabel glanced around, amazed that he had somehow managed to clutter the place even more than when she had been down there the day before. Papers, books, maps and languages she couldn't understand were everywhere. It screamed "nerd stuff," but she had to admit that it was so outside of her realm of understanding that it had almost had a magically profound quality when she looked at it, like looking up at the stars and realizing how small you were. But in a nerdier way.

"You may be a total packrat, but I sometimes forget what a genius you are," Mabel spoke, idly flipping through a book that looked older than her. Of course, nothing on the pages made sense to her.

Ford chuckled, swallowing before he replied. "That may be, but it's only a result of my hard work all these years, learning and discovering," he commented wistfully. "And managing to not get eaten or mutilated by the things I research," he added with a smile as he finished the pizza.

"Fair enough." Mabel mirrored his look and slowly pulled her sleeve away from her face. The smell was still horrible, but it was at least more tolerable than when she'd first come in. "Speaking of which, have you thought about… maybe taking a break?" She leaned back against the desk since there was no space to sit where she wouldn't be on top of something and ran her shoe through the dirt on the floor distractedly.

"A break… from what?" Ford asked, perplexed.

"Just… all your research. It must be really borin-I mean tiring to do this all the time. Right?" Mabel asked uncertainly, hesitantly meeting Ford's gaze.

"Hm? Not at all." Ford grinned, turning in his chair towards the monitor as he typed something into the supercomputer. "Mysteries and anomalies have fascinated me all my life, Mabel. Though the sheer number and magnitude of them all can be a bit daunting, at the same time it's… very exhilarating. Despite the dangers, there's still nothing I'd rather do with my life."

He and Stanley had shared a love of adventure all their lives, but to Ford it was more than just the monsters, magic and oddities. He felt like he was discovering parts of the world and even the universe that almost every other human on earth would forever be ignorant to. He learned how it was all connected and the truth behind what man had once considered unexplainable and dismissed as myth or coincidence.

Mabel recognized the look on Ford's face. It was the same one on Dipper's when he talked about mysteries. It made him so happy, but Mabel felt so empty and alone. She could tell Stan felt the same way from the occasional longing gazes she'd seen on the man over the years.

"That's great, Ford! But maybe you need to take a step back. I mean, drowning yourself in work kind of leaves you brain dead, doesn't it?" Mabel suggested as she pushed off of the desk to walk over to her great uncle.

"I suppose, but there's no need to worry. I get my standard seven hours of sleep most nights of the week," he assured her. That was, when he could decipher what time of the day or night it was.

"Uh… I meant something a little more than just sleeping," Mabel hinted.

"Food? I take care of that too," Ford chuckled, amused by his niece's concern.

"A little more than that…"

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "… Vitamin D? I _do_ go outside for some of my research. I can't do everything down here," he explained as Mabel counted to ten in her head to keep her cool. Obviously, she needed to be a little more direct.

" _More than just that_ ," she stressed. "Ever thought of maybe just… not doing any research at all some days? Maybe spend some time outside of this place for more than lunch. Go on a boat and just… fish a little. With other people. Like your family. Huh? Huh?" Mabel nudged Ford with an elbow as the elderly man frowned pensively.

"Mabel, I have a feeling you're trying to get at something-"

"YES! I mean…" Mabel deflated when Ford reeled back in his seat from her outburst and sighed. "Look, grunkle Stan is worried about you. We all-"

Mabel and Ford jumped simultaneously at the sudden high-pitched beeping. The scientist suddenly swerved in his chair towards the computer screen, his firm look of concentration breaking into disbelief when he registered what he saw.

"What is that?" Mabel asked uncertainly, looking over his shoulder with a frown.

"The unusual energy readings. And fantastic ones at that. I've only been able to follow the residual signatures until now because they've been further away when they occurred," Ford breathed out in awe as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

Mabel frowned and scratched her head at the practically alien scripture that she was looking at. She recognized some numbers, but that was about it.

"Um, you need… some time?" she asked after a moment, hesitant to interrupt Ford.

"Yes. I-I'm sorry Mabel, but I've never gotten a burst this close before. I need to analyze and store the data before it's over. But I promise we'll talk later, alright?"

"Yeah. Sure thing. Later." Mabel bit the inside of her cheek, looking around the dank lab contemplatively before she turned to head back upstairs, giving a glance back at her grunkle's hunched form. This was important to Ford. It could wait just a little while, right?

* * *

Author's Note: I think I have a weird propensity to cause Dipper to be hurt/humiliated in the beginning of my chapters. I hope this doesn't become a problem. Unless you guys want it to be. ;)

Also, sorry about the long wait on this chapter. I don't schedule these release dates, but I know I've stayed pretty consistent until now. However, good news is that I think my writer's block is over for the moment and soon I'll have more free time to write and really kick this story into gear.


	8. Chapter 8

"One more," Mabel muttered to herself as she rubbed her strained eyes. With her arm resting on the life-sized plushie she had made of Waddles to fill the void of their cuddles after he'd died, Mabel scrolled through the tenth page of her internet browser.

Unfortunately for Mabel, her vacation didn't mean that she could stop working. After a few jobs during and after college that proved either too dull or couldn't bring in the income she needed, she'd been at a loss. She had too much energy for some boring desk job and would have surely withered away in a cubicle. However, the jobs she wanted just weren't working out nor would they be a viable career without years of experience and possibly going back to college.

It'd honestly been by mere coincidence that she'd seen the news story, but after reading about a woman who sold her own, original crafts online and made good money, Mabel had been far too tempted to not at least try it.

Mabel was always very artsy and had plenty of ideas for various trinkets, jewelry, and clothes, so coming up with enough merchandise to launch a website had been the easiest part. Making it all had taken the longest, and during that entire month of preparation she'd worried about whether her gamble would work out. In the end, it had been more lucrative than she'd ever imagined. People liked what she created. Even the more strange or unusual products tended to gain some attention and soon Mabel a large following and a lot of trouble keeping up with the orders.

After the initial stress of such sudden demand, however, Mabel fell into a rhythm with her work and had reveled in the prospect of her new business. So long as she could think of ideas for things that people liked it and she could meet the demand, she made money and pretty good money at that.

Currently, her most popular items were actually some custom made plushies for Duck-tective which was making a resurgence in popularity. After she'd thrown up a picture of her Waddles plushie for kicks, the emails for custom ones had practically flooded in.

But people were always looking for the next thing, so after saying goodnight to everyone, she'd hopped on the computer to start looking for interesting and unusual symbols to use for a new set of jewelry she was making. The only downside about her occupation was that it really depended on her motivation to work, something that had been stunted since her excitement to return to Gravity Falls had kicked in about a two weeks ago.

And then there was the irony of what had kicked her creativity into gear when it had seemed to taunt her only earlier that day.

After lunch, Mabel had gone outside on the porch to text Wendy about when she'd be coming to the party, but spotting a light dusting of something green and a scratch on the corner of her phone had caused her to pause. Mystified by the sight, she'd reached into the pocket her phone had been in and pulled out the stone piece of Bill's body.

Scowling, the brunette had realized it had probably rubbed up against her phone, explaining the scratch and what she now realized was moss. So like a mature adult, she'd chucked the thing at one of the support beams of the house in annoyance only to have it come flying at her feet.

That was when she'd noticed something odd. After picking it up, she realized that the stone wasn't just green from the moss, but that it was green underneath. A thin layer of the stone had apparently chipped off when she'd thrown it and below the rugged, stony exterior was a smooth green material which reminded her of extremely dark colored glass. Curious, Mabel had grabbed some sandpaper from Soos' nearby tool box and slowly sanded away the stone to find that the whole thing was the same underneath.

It had made little to no sense to her how under one stone there could be something completely different, but it had given her an idea. She'd seen glass necklaces online, but some could even take a 2D image and magnify it to look 3D, like it was an object encased in the glass. The ideas started to flow and Mabel had begun to contemplate various coloring, images and different sets she could put them in. Now it was just a matter of finding symbols to put inside.

Yawning and not daring to look at the clock, Mabel stopped at the image of a snake eating its own tail and creating a circle. It had a little page about the meaning of the symbol as well which she'd have to look at later. Things tended to sell better when she explained any profound, archaic meanings behind them.

"Good enough," she muttered and bookmarked the page before closing her laptop and setting it aside.

"Goodnight, Waddles," she added before shutting her eyes and cuddling the plushie. Her eyes shut for a millisecond before snapping open again.

"Almost forgot." She turned on the light and rummaged through her luggage. Grinning, she shoved the small item into her pocket and hopped back into bed with a sigh and laid down, pulling the covers back over her.

"Goodnight, Lassy." She patted the laser gun in her pants before drifting off to sleep.

…

"It was worth a shot," Mabel sighed when her pockets turned up empty. "One I didn't intend to miss," she grumbled.

Having a genius for an uncle had its perks and the laser gun was just one. It'd been a gift from Ford for Christmas, one she was glad she'd been able to convince her parents was simply a toy. In actuality, it was a one-shot laser gun that needed time to recharge, but it was very compact in size, easy to carry around for "the off chance of a sudden ambush" as her great uncle had described it. Or, as she'd intended for her current needs, to blast an annoying human shaped triangle.

"Ha! Nice try, Shooting Star, but that won't work in here," the yellow demon taunted. It was almost adorable that she thought she could get the jump on him. "Not that you'd stand a chance with it anyway."

Mabel still had one last card up her sleeve.

"Not unless I have _kitten fists_!" Mabel pumped her fists at Bill dramatically, but was sorely disappointed when her hands remained kittenless.

She blinked when there was sudden flash of light and rubbed at her eyes as her vision blurred. When she could see again, she spotted Bill with a polaroid camera.

"Ah, the look of fading hope. Makes me proud to be the demon that crushed it." Bill said, pulling out a photo and waving it through the air as it developed.

"What are you-?"

"Darn it! I blinked," Bill frowned at the photo and tossed the camera behind him.

Against her better judgement, Mabel approached the demon and glanced down at the polaroid. She was shocked to see, not just her in the photo with her arms outstretched, but Bill behind her, giving her horns, and, in fact, blinking.

If she didn't know better, she'd say that Bill was starting to get sentimental in his ancient insanity, taking photos rather than laughing maniacally at her failure.

"How the heck?" Mabel grabbed for the photo to get a better look before Bill lifted it out of her reach.

"Asks the girl who tried to fire cats at me," Bill said bluntly, glancing down at her.

Mabel was almost sure that her current expression matched her disgruntled one in the photo.

"Why didn't that work? We're in the mindscape, aren't we?" The brunette narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

"Your naiveté is hilarious," Bill smiled slyly, letting the picture in his hand burn to ashes. "You really think I wouldn't safeguard against a repeat of my invasion of Stan's mind?" He hadn't counted on them even figuring it out then, but he wasn't about to take chances a second time.

Mabel scowled. So threatening Bill out of her dreams wasn't an option. She'd be the last person to guess that violence wouldn't solve the problem for once, but now it was up to plan B: talking.

"Yeah? Well…" Mabel grappled for a good comeback. "Your deals still suck! And nothing you say or do will make me make one with you. N. O. Deal. No dealo. Got it?" Mabel poked her finger into his chest firmly.

Optimistic as always, she hoped that her refusal to cooperate with the demon would make it clear that he should move on to find a more gullible pawn. Or at least ward him off long enough to afford her at least one night of uninterrupted sleep. Was she even resting properly when she had to endure his "visits"?

"Woah there, Shooting Star! That's quite an assumption to jump to." Bill lightly smacked her hand away with his cane, his other hand on his waist. "Have you ever thought that maybe _I_ would be the one to visit _you_?" he asked with a grin. "It'll be just like the good ol' days."

"… _What_ good old days?" Mabel stared at him, perplexed.

"Oh, you know. The scavenger hunts in your uncle's mind. Wrestling around during that puppet show. Playing tag, or as I like to call it, "run for your ever loving life" in the fearamid. The good old days!" Bill threw his arms up as his body flew into the air.

Mabel gaped at him. "You and I have very _very_ different recollections."

"Potato, potauto, I turned your uncle into a statue, he was very good at charades." Bill shrugged. "Whether you like it or not, I have nothing better to do and you're stuck here until you wake up!" he declared.

"Why do I have a feeling you're really here just to drive me insane?" Mabel rubbed at her temple. If the night before had been any indication of what these visits would be like, then Mabel wouldn't put it past the demon.

"Drive you insane? I'm insulted." His lip jutted out in a pout. "The horrors I could thrust upon you in my little pinky alone would do irrevocable damage to your psyche," he told her as if pointing out the obvious. "If I was trying, you'd know it. Or… I guess you wouldn't." Bill held his chin, looking to the side. "Probably too busy trying to square a circle or something just as pointless," he muttered as an afterthought.

"Like you are now?" Mabel asked blankly.

Bill let out a low whistle. "Low blow, Star. Low blow." He rested his cane behind his neck with his hands on either side. "Plus, as fun as that sounds, I don't think you'd make the mental decline very well. And even I wouldn't break my newest toy that soon."

"So I'm a toy, huh?" Mabel's jaw ticked in annoyance.

"Hm… more like a pass time. Dress it up however you want. But since you won't make a deal with me, what else do you expect me to do?" Bill's question actually appeared sincere.

"Rotting in hell wouldn't be an option?"

"Joke's on you, kid!" Bill cackled. "I don't rot. And the guys in hell are a riot. Literally. That shit is right up my alley."

"Where's a can of spray paint when you need one?" Mabel asked, crossing her arms dejectedly.

"Combusting in a fire pit of hell where it belongs." Bill's voice lowered demonically as his eye flashed red for a moment. Just as Mabel's wide eyes started to instinctively look for an escape route, he was back to normal. "No getting rid of me," Bill sang. "You might as well accept it like the Trojans accepted that horse." Mabel didn't even want to think about the implications of that comparison.

"Should have set that horse on fire."

"Been there, done that. And quite frankly I expected you to be more creative than that." Bill laid himself out in the air with his arms behind his head, legs crossed casually.

Frowning up at him, Mabel sat down on the ground as she propped her head up with her elbow on her knee, reluctantly accepting the demon's unwanted company. How bad could it be?

"Is there really nothing else that you do besides making deals?" she sighed. Bill didn't strike Mabel as the workaholic type. Even if that work was aimed at causing the apocalypse.

"Not lately," Bill snorted. "You know, with being stuck in my body and all… because of you and your family." He suddenly appeared to her left, pointing at her while still floating in the air. "How _are_ old Fordsy and Stan? Kick the bucket yet?" he asked with an amused smile. "I mean, it's been thirteen years and they weren't exactly spry brats like you were the last time I saw them. And with you humans having such laughably short lives and your own bodies clogging up your arteries on a daily basis like a corpse pipe on a grinder, I wouldn't be surprised if the maggots were gnawing at them as we speak."

Mabel glared at Bill, giving him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Struck a nerve, I see," he commented coolly.

"…"

"Oh, come on. It was a joke… sortofbutnotreally."

"…"

"I try to off them myself and you barely bat an eye, but now I just insinuate they might have actually keeled over of natural causes and you get all bent out of shape?" he asked indignantly.

Mabel didn't budge.

"Jeez, tough crowd." Bill pulled at his collar.

Mabel could hear the sounds of crickets in the background as ran her hand over her face.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Author's Note: I now have this story on Tumblr and open asks. I... don't know what you could ask me, but I'm always open to talk, so feel free to come by. My name is the same there, but I'll put a link in my profile.


	9. Chapter 9

"Hehehe. Not only the alpha twin, but the better twin," Mabel chuckled deviously to herself, holding the book to her face.

A good guilt trip ought to do the trick.

"I'm sorry, Mabel, but I'm busy. Maybe another time," Dipper had said to her annoyance.

The man stubbornly refused to go on a ride with her on her motorcycle (or her "metal death trap" as their father liked to call it) even though he promised he would during their stay. It wasn't the first time he had put it off. He cited reasons such as "work" or "getting ready for the party" for not going even though she promised it'd just be an hour or two and they had plenty of time before everyone would arrive at the Mystery Shack. It was the perfect day for it too, but instead he'd told her to go get some last minute groceries.

And though she'd listened to him, she had done it with a very disapproving pout before she left.

In no hurry to get back, after she'd gotten what she needed and a little something else, Mabel had decided to check out a secondhand book store. Hoping to find some cheap copies of a paranormal romance series that she liked to give to Grenda and Candy, she had stumbled upon a familiar looking book and her plan for revenge had formed.

The Sibling Brothers series had caused Dipper to keep her awake many a night during their time in Gravity Falls. It was almost poetic justice that she used it to get back at her brother for being a procrastinating scaredy-cat (though he insisted he wasn't afraid of riding Mabel's motorcycle). The copy was apparently signed and in fairly good condition. However, Mabel could have easily missed it as she was used to seeing it practically falling apart in her brother's hands from having such a loving owner.

And while her first instinct was to taunt him and smugly wag the book in front of his longing eyes, Mabel had amended her plan to killing him with kindness (and maybe chucking it at his face if the mood struck her).

While finding the mystery novel had been by pure luck, Mabel wasn't getting a very good lead on the books she'd actually been looking for. The place was so disorganized that it could give Ford's lab a run for its money.

"Ugh, I can practically feel the boring oozing from this place," she murmured to herself with a yawn as she rubbed at her eyes. Best that she find what she was looking for asap, lest she fall asleep in the wake of the nerdy atmosphere surrounding her. It'd be like her physics coarse all over again.

In her search, she noticed that there were a lot of thick, old looking texts and blinked when she actually recognized one of the archaic symbols on the spine of one. It was one that she'd seen while searching for symbols for her jewelry, but she couldn't find any information on it.

"Hm. Maybe," Mabel muttered to herself as she scanned the shelf.

So long as she was there, maybe it'd be a good idea to grab a book or two about symbols. If she could find some old magic or language books they were sure to be chock full of them and it was hard to get solid info on the internet.

After a bit of debate, Mabel decided on a thinner text on the top shelf. However, when her glance around the area for a stool turned up empty, she took matters into her own hands. Sweeping her gaze around one last time to find the area void of any other customers, she placed the mystery novel down and rested her foot on the bottom shelf. Deeming it suitable to carry her weight, Mabel began to slowly climb up, wincing at the creaking sound the shelves made from supporting her. She hastily searched the self from her new vantage point for the book.

"Bingo." She spotted the text and shot her hand out to grab it.

"Hey!"

"Ahh!" Jumping in surprise, Mabel's eyes widened as her foot slipped from the lower shelf and her hand failed to grasp the top shelf in time. Her vision blurred as she fell back and prepared herself to hit the ground, but instead something surprisingly soft broke her landing.

"Ugh. I guess I deserved that." Mabel heard the strained voice underneath her grunt in pain. After a moment of disorientation, she shot up with a gasp and rolled off of her savior to kneel beside him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay!?" Mabel asked the man sprawled out on the ground.

"Huh? Yeah, I think so," he laughed, sitting up and rubbing his head. The smile on his face cracked when he cringed at a sudden pang in his head. "It's kind of my fault anyway. I didn't mean to startle you," he explained sheepishly as he adjusted his glasses. "I just thought I'd offer you some help."

"Oh. Do you work here?" Mabel asked, wide eyed as she shifted her gaze awkwardly. "I uh… couldn't find a stool so I just thought I'd grab it myself since I just wanted the one book and I didn't really expect anyone would see me…" She trailed when she noted how intently the man was staring at her. "I'm sorry, I'll leave now," she apologized speedily and moved to stand.

"No, no, no, I don't work here," he quickly told her with a short chuckle, holding his hands up as if urging her to stay. "It's just that I thought you looked familiar," he explained, his green eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Sorry, what?" Mabel tilted her head at him in confusion and helped pull him to his feet. She'd never seen him before in her life.

"Do you fall for guys a lot or am I just special?" He asked, sporting a knowing grin as he waited expectantly.

"Fall?" Mabel pursed her lips thoughtfully before it hit her. "Ski mask guy!?" she blurted, pointing at him in surprise.

"Ski mask guy?" He blinked at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess we never did get formally introduced," he thought aloud, pursing his lower lip. "I think we should change that. I'm Wane Doctor," he said, offering his hand to her with a smile.

"Mabel Pines," she said brightly and shook his hand, noting his fingerless gloves. Her smile morphed into a pensive frown and she asked curiously. "Do you mean Dr. Wane?"

"Ah, not really. Here's the funny thing," he began as if rehearsed, though his delivery was no less sincere. "Yes, that's my real name, but I actually am a doctor too. Still, my nickname was always Dr. Wane, so I guess I was just meant to live up to it," he explained nonchalantly with a shrug.

Mabel giggled. "Don't feel too bad, Dr. Wane. There are far funnier nicknames out there," she spoke, thinking of Dipper. It was normal to her, but it had been and still was the butt of many jokes on her poor twin.

"So tell me, what was the book you risked your life for by taking on the daring task of shelf climbing?" Wane asked coyly.

Mabel looked down at her hand still clutching the book and turned it to show him. "Oh, just this. It's for-"

"Hey! I know this one," Wane's face lit up suddenly. "Do you mind?" He held his hand out politely for the book before Mabel deposited it into his grasp. "Man, talk about a walk down memory lane," he beamed, leafing through the pages.

"You've read it?" Mabel prompted him curiously.

"Read it? I practically inhaled stuff like this when I was in high school." Watching Wane, Mabel nearly cooed at the man's childish delight. It was so cute and honestly reminded her a lot of Dipper when he was deep into his little geek world.

"So you're a fan of… history?" Mabel asked, a bit unsure of the contents of the book.

As if catching himself, Wane shut the book and handed it back to her with a light blush. "Sort of. Just the idea of science and magic and everything," he confessed. "I know it's not real and all, but people have spent centuries trying to turn lead into gold or cure diseases with magic and some claims of success just kind of… make you think." The dark haired man shifted awkwardly. "Sorry, didn't really mean to unload all of that on you."

Mabel laughed. "Trust me. You're tame compared to some of the people I know when it comes to the unusual and stuff like that," she assured him, dusting off her pants. "So hey, thanks for… everything then. Back at the coffee shop," she told him, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"Huh. Oh, no problem. Always happy to help a damsel," Wane said with a gentlemanly nod. "So do _you_ like this kind of stuff?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful, pointing to the book.

"Uh, well." Mabel glanced to the side thoughtfully as she pondered how to proceed. "I probably don't know nearly as much about it as you do," even though she knew magic and the supernatural was, in fact, real, " but I think it's really cool," the brunette told him.

"Really?" If Wane was a dog, Mabel was almost certain that his ears would have perked at that. "Maybe we can get together some time then. Like, maybe go get a cup of coffee or dinner?" he suggested.

"Sounds great…" Mabel said, doing her best not to melt.

She had to admit, that ski mask hadn't been doing Wane any favors aside from keeping his face warm. It was taking all of Mabel's self-control not to fan herself in the face of his boyish smile. That, along with his messy black locks, cool green eyes and lean but solid build would leave any girl ready to swoon. While both times she'd fallen into his arms were complete accidents, she could definitely see herself doing it on purpose now.

"Heeeey, crazy sudden idea," she spoke when she finally got a hold of herself. "But would you want to come to a party I'm having tonight? It'll be at the Mystery Shack."

"The Mystery Shack?" It took Wane a moment to register that. "Wow, that place is famous around here. I'm kind of new to Gravity Falls, so I've never been," he told her before adding as an afterthought, "Didn't know they rented the place for events."

"Oh, we don't," Mabel interjected. "But my great uncles own the place. It's kind of a get together for our friends, but you're welcome to come."

"Sounds like a date," Wane grinned before reaching into his pocket. "Say, I'm not very good with directions, so could I get your number? In case I get lost, of course." He offered her his phone.

"Couldn't get more lost than I'm getting in your eyes," Mabel murmured with a sigh.

"What?" Wane blinked.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Mabel laughed and swiped his phone from his hand to put in her number, barely convincing herself not to put "The girl of your dreams" as the name. She needed to play it cool.

"Thanks, Mabel," Wane said when he took his phone back. "I gotta go, but I guess I'll see you at the party later-"

"At seven," she quickly supplied.

Wane gaped at her for a moment before laughing as he walked backwards towards the exit. "At seven," he confirmed with a mock salute. "On the dot-uh!"

Mabel slapped her hands over her face to smother a snort as she watched him nearly trip over a stack of books on the ground.

"Hah! Should probably look the same way I'm walking." He smiled sheepishly as he regained his balance. "Later," he waved.

"Later," Mabel suppressed her giggles under a lighthearted grin, watching him leave. "A friend, indeed."

Or maybe something more.  
…

"Based on what you told me, I tried to read up on everything I could, but I'm just drawing a blank," Dipper explained to Ford, chewing on the end of his pen.

When his sister had finally left the house, Dipper had rushed down to the basement to see Ford. He knew that she and grunkle Stan were coming from a good place by trying to keep him from being drawn into Ford's obsessive behavior as of late, but he was a grown man. He had been just fine without them directing his life for years and a little temptation wouldn't send him on some downward spiral like they thought.

"It was a long shot, but at least now I can narrow down the possibilities," Ford mused aloud. He'd lent his nephew a few tomes that he hoped might allow Dipper to come to the conclusion that was eluding him, but even the young man's insight wasn't bringing forth any new leads.

"How long have these fluctuations been going on?" Dipper inquired as he looked over the energy readings that Ford had recorded and wrote down some observations. The new ones that were recorded the night before just seemed to make the whole situation more complicated.

"A few weeks, but I can't pinpoint why. Nothing matches up with anything that I've accounted for." Ford had been following the energy readings, trying to make some sense of them, but he just couldn't find a correlation to anything that might be causing them. Even then, correlation didn't equal causation, but it was still a fair starting point.

"These readings are a nightmare to run through," Dipper sighed as he looked over the long stretch of markings that probably looked like nonsense to the average joe. Hell, they were bordering that for him just because of all that was going on.

"I know. Even with the computers I've only gotten through about half of the potential scans." Ford had to admit that he'd been skeptical of the idea of computers and the internet being useful for more than a giant computer and cataloger. However, after arriving back in his home dimension and finding all the applications it had, the scientist couldn't help diving head into the intricacies and workings of the technological ocean of possibilities.

Although he'd had to come up with the programs himself as no one else had created the ones he'd needed, Ford found that they made his work much easier. He was still getting used to his phone talking to him though, as it reminded him far too much of a parasite that led people to dangerous hallucinations and talking to inanimate objects.

"It's not weather, it's not a shock wave, it's not even a gravitational shift," Dipper murmured, tapping his gnawed at pen on his chin. "And it's not a known anomaly either?" He looked towards his great uncle.

"Nothing that could cause this scale of a reaction as far as I know," Ford confirmed, puzzling over a board of algorithms.

"Heh. Even after surviving the apocalypse, this stuff doesn't get any easier, does it?" Dipper commented.

"That may be," Ford said with a wistful grin. "But sometimes the answer is closer than you think, even when it may seem like, at times, you're just chasing after shadows."

…

This was a day of triumph for Mabel Pines. Of course, she always knew love originated in the stomach.

"You like me now, don't you?" Mabel beamed as the cat began rub up against her leg. The descent of her hand was slow, but when it hovered above the head of the tabby, Chibi-chan instantly leaned into her touch, purring.

Mabel practically squealed. The PTSD from her humanicaticatures incident hardly even bothered her.

"I knew you'd love me someday," Mabel declared as she cuddled the cat in her arms. Well, at least as long as Mabel came packing. It might take another fillet of fresh tuna to sway the kitty enough to let Mabel get this close again, but it was good enough for the brunette for now.

"Do I even wanna know?" Stan spoke awkwardly, looking very uncomfortable as he entered the kitchen to see his niece cradling the feline with a look of a pure bliss.

"Grunkle Stan, look-!" Mabel turned and approached him with Chi only to have the cat squirm out of her grasp and hightail it out of the kitchen. "Oh, come on! You liked my tuna, didn't you!?" she shouted after the cat, pouting. That tuna should have at least afforded her a tummy rub and some play time. Back to square one.

"Sweetie, I love you, but you really need to lay off the Mabel juice," Stan sighed as he went into the fridge to grab a beer.

"I have been," Mabel whined, pursing her lips. "I'm just excited to see everyone. Aren't you?"

Stan grumbled under his breath about this being the last time he'd ever do a non-profit event as he sat at the table.

" _Aren't you?"_ Mabel sidled up to Stan, taking a seat across from him. "It's Wendy, Stan. We haven't seen her in forever."

"Yeah, yeah. The worst employee I ever had. Well, right after that pasty looking hippy guy of a handyman. So bad that I hired the first kid I saw to do his job and work with heavy, dangerous tools. Still not the worst decision I've ever made," Stan noted gruffly.

"Like throwing water on that fire?" Mabel asked, reaching out to look at Stan's burned hand. The skin was a healthy pink and the bandages needed to be changed soon.

"Ha! That's not even close to the worst," he said without pause, taking a drag from his beer. "Speaking of bad decisions, how did things with Ford go last night?"

Mabel froze. "Um, I uh-"

"Um, I uh," Stan parodied her stutter. "Just give it to me straight, kid. I'm not made of glass. More like a tough, old, dried up leather," he said thoughtfully.

Mabel bit her lip as she saw the coming glimmer of disappointment in her grunkle's eyes. "Well, he was-"

"Mr. Pines!" Soos shouted from down the hall, skidding past the kitchen before backtracking. "Mr. Pines," Soos panted. "Some kids were messing around and the rock that looks like a rock face fell on one of them!"

"What!?" Stan jumped up from his spot in alarm. "Did you get the money from them for touching it?"

"Yeah."

"And did you fake call 911?"

Soos nodded attentively.

"Good job, Soos! Keep em' occupied while I put on the doctor costume!"

"Yes, sir!"

The two conmen stormed out of the room and Mabel let out a sigh of relief. She blinked when she heard a meow and looked down to see Chibi-chan pawing at her leg playfully.

"I know," Mabel reached down and scratched the tabby under her chin. "I gotta get Ford out of the basement… somehow."

Chi purred and nuzzled against her hand causing Mabel to smile. "You're right. First things first."

She had a party to get ready for. Not to mention a hot, nerdy date.

* * *

Author's Note: Ugh. Writing this chapter was nerve wracking. Why is making decisions so hard?

Anyway, the ski mask guy has been unmasked! The last few chapters have been super boring. I know. But I hope this makes up for it a little and that you let me know what you think. Specific comments really help me figure out where to go with the story. Thank you so much for all your support and I hope you'll stick with me as I fumble my way through this story! Because big things are coming. ;) However eventual they are…


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